


Fate

by Rhymes_With_Quetzalcoatl



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-21
Updated: 2003-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhymes_With_Quetzalcoatl/pseuds/Rhymes_With_Quetzalcoatl
Summary: SPOILERS : Anything up to Fire and Water, but primarily F&WSUMMARY : Daniel is not the same after his encounter with Nem* could the team be losing Daniel to Nem’s past?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Fate

##  Fate

##### Written by Thel  


  * SPOILERS: Anything up to Fire and Water, but primarily F&W 
  * SEASON / SEQUEL: Season 1 
  * SUMMARY: Daniel is not the same after his encounter with Nem… could the team be losing Daniel to Nem’s past? 
  * PG13 for some violence [D] [A] … a little bit of AU, but not really. <grin>



* * *

He whimpered softly, gasping at phantom pains. 

What… fate… Omoroca? 

"No…" He whispered, trying to still the rasping voice in his head. 

You know of Babylon. 

"It was so long ago." He pleaded. "So much is lost. No one knows. Please… let me go. My friends…" A single tear welled out from under his lashes. His head trembled with the effort of keeping still. 

The knowledge is there… in your mind. 

"Nem. Stop, please. You’re hurting me." 

"Dammit, Daniel." 

The young archaeologist frowned as a harsh and quite obviously angry voice cut Nem off. His awareness began to return as he slowly clawed his way out of the dream. 

Omoroca feared Belus. The voice in his head tried one last time. 

"Unh. Nem." His head was held again, but not by the restraints, something else was holding him… shaking him. Now his shoulders. "Oh God!" He gasped, his back arching up at the memory and the pain. "He killed her. He killed her…" 

"Daniel!" The voice was like a whip crack, startling the man awake. Instinctively, he put his hands up protectively, flinching away. "Dammit." The voice was softer now, a hand softly touched his shoulder. 

"Jack." He breathed, body instantly relaxing back onto the couch. He put his hands over his face as a very worried colonel leaned over him, kneeling on the floor. 

"Daniel. What the hell’s going on here?" Jack attempted to pull Daniel’s hands away from his face. "Are you alright?" He asked, concern making his voice husky. "Damn that walking squid. I shoulda…" 

"No." Daniel ground out, allowing Jack to pull him into a sitting position, legs still stretched out on the comfortable couch. His eyes were shut tightly, blocking out even the dim office lights. "It’s okay. Headache." 

"Okay? Daniel, that looked like pain to me. What the hell was that?" Jack got to his feet as Daniel turned ninety degrees and his legs slid off the couch. The archaeologist sat up and attempted to remain vertical. 

"Just a dream, Jack. I’m fine." Daniel’s long fingers massaged his temples. 

"You said Nem was hurting you. Something you forgot to mention in your briefing?" Jack’s voice had that deceptively, dangerously level tone again. Daniel risked a glance and pursed his lips. Jack was standing, arms crossed, glowering at the floor, the sofa and its resident linguist. Even looking away, Daniel could feel the weight of the older man’s gaze. 

"Nnnno." He said, squaring his shoulders and standing up. "I told you what happened. He used a mind probe on me. It got a little… tense near the end." Daniel licked his lips as Jack caught his gaze, and immediately looked away. "That’s- That’s all. You were there. I walked out under my own power. This is just a little headache." He rolled his neck, grimacing. Taking a deep breath, he squinted, heading over to his desk in search of his glasses. 

Jack stepped forward, fingertips barely touching Daniel’s arm. The younger man kept his eyes on the floor, almost hidden by his bangs. "What he did to you, out of ten, how was the pain?" No answer. "Daniel, come on, talk to me. I want an honest answer here. Out of ten, how bad was it?" 

Daniel’s arms wrapped around his chest tightly and his gaze turned to the ceiling panels. "Out of ten?" He said softly. Jack nodded. Daniel’s head dropped until his chin bounced off of his chest and he gave a little laugh. "About an eleven." 

His eyes were closed, so he missed Jack’s dark gaze turn murderous. If Nem had been in the room with them, the creature would have been sashimi. Finely sliced sashimi. Jack got himself under control. Spooking Daniel wouldn’t solve anything. "And now?" 

Daniel sighed and rolled his neck. "Ah. Not bad. Maybe a two. Kind of an eye-strain, no food, no caffeine type of headache." His eyes jerked open as Jack’s hand circled his bicep and he was dragged summarily out of his office. "Jack?" 

"Food, coffee, little walk, VIP room and bed." 

Daniel made a brief effort to dig in his heels, but then grinned briefly and trotted obediently along. 

\- - - - - 

From: "Daniel" <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

To: "Emma" <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 21 13:04 

Subject: Babylonian Myths 

Attachments: enuma_elish.doc (93K), myths.doc (823K), names.doc (56K) 

Auntie Em, 

‘Culture Boy’? If Jack ever found out about this… I appreciate you setting up these email addresses for us, but were there no other names available? I fail to comprehend the juvenile attitude of people on a seemingly anonymous mail service. Would people be so willing to call themselves by these ridiculous titles if they were face to face? "Hello, I’m Culture Boy." Furthermore, ‘studmuffin69’ is not an acceptable password. Em, we have to talk about this. 

But, until I see you again, can you take a look at the documents I’ve attached to this mail? Here’s my problem. I’m working on a creation myth about the character ‘Omoroca’. There’s not much in the history books about her, but I’m thinking that’s because she was better known as Tiamat. It’s a long story, and I’ve put together some of the mythologies in the file called ‘myths.doc’. The names get a little confusing, so I’ve included a table of names in the ‘names’ file. The last piece is a version of the creation myth itself called Enuma Elish. Maybe it will make sense to you, maybe not. 

Can you read it through and tell me what you think of the Omoroca story? I’m thinking that her death and the creation myth it spawns are just ripe with metaphor, but it’s so convoluted, that I’m not able to get a hold of it. Too much coffee, too little sleep. As always. 

We still on for dinner on Tuesday? 

D. 

  

From: Emma C. <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

To: Daniel J. <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 21 14:55 

Subject: Re: Babylonian Myths 

Attachments: Eff_Use_Prop.doc (773K) 

What ho, Culture Boy! 

Actually, I think it suits you although I’m pretty sure I saw your blush from here. Yea, but verily it lit up the western sky. I was tempted to call you ‘bone_daddy’ or something similar, but from the look of some of the junk mail I’m getting on this thing already… yikes! No need to give people even more of the wrong idea. What the hell do people need these, uh, gadgets for anyway? Ewww… oh, shudder. Did you get the ‘Super-size in three weeks’ email? Ugh. I tell you, Charlie Brown, no man would *ever* get near me with something that looked like that. Anyway , change the password if you want, surely you can manage that level of technical proficiency. 8-P 

So, let’s get back to your end of the… no wait… *creation* of the world project, shall we? I’ve read over the names and the story files and I’m about halfway through the myths file. I’ve been a bit busy lately, so give me a couple more days. Ok? 

I’m not quite sure where we’re headed with this though? What are you looking to prove? Omoroca was Tiamat? Tiamat was/wasn’t killed by Belus? Tiamat isn’t that same five-headed dragon Tiamat from the D&D games? Sorry. I’ll be good. Basically you seem to be pointing me toward the Tiamat/Belus/Omoroca/Marduk thing. Right? Side note… why me? What’s his name… Robert knows more about this than I ever will. 

I’ll have something to tell you on Tuesday. I have that consultation until five. How ‘bout we meet at your place at seven? I’ll bring salad and such… you remember salad don’t you? Green leafy things containing nutrients. Say it with me. Nuu-tree-eennnts. Mmm… nutrients. That’s a Simpsons reference. Ask your friend Jack. He sounds like someone who could appreciate it. 

I’ve included a copy of the paper I’m taking to the consultation. It’s an effective land use sort of deal on some local property. Check it out and tell me if I spelled everything right. It’s a general consumption thing, so I’m supposed to write it at a grade seven level. Since neither you nor I ever attended grade seven, I’m guessing here. Tell me if it reads right, ‘k? 

xo. Emma 

\- - - - - 

Daniel straightened up in his chair, stretching his aching back as the email program shut down. Rothman… there was another source he could tap. He hadn’t yet because he wanted a non-anthropological point of view. It wasn’t the myths he was having trouble with, it was the meanings. Rothman was a good man, a good researcher but he lacked a certain imagination sometimes. Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt. 

Daniel hoped Emma could give him a fresh perspective on this Omoroca dream. The documents were all basic stuff he’d cobbled together from text-books, dictionaries and some internet sources. Nothing classified. He made damn sure of that. He respected the SGC too much to risk the project, even for a good friend. 

He and Emma were used to bouncing ideas off of one another. It got them through grad school. Nobody points out flaws in your plans like someone who knows less than you do about the topic. Strange but true. He hoped she could help him sort out this whole mess. 

They had met as children, sharing a foster home for three wonderful months. She was a ‘head case’ then, lost and alone without her memory after a terrible car accident that left her parents bleeding to death in front of her very eyes. He had been alone for two years at that time. Both geniuses, both abandoned by what little true family they had, they had bonded. 

When she was sent to another home, she wrote him with her new address and they began a furious correspondence, filling pages with their sprawling scripts. Whenever one would be moved, they would send their new address to the other. They had lost abrupt contact at the age of fifteen, when they were moved simultaneously, only to find each other again at eighteen. They’d been close forever. Somehow, it was fitting that their birthdays were only a day apart. Some days, it felt like they were the next best thing to twins. 

Daniel’s mouth curled up. Jack would like her. If only they could someday meet. He thought about recommending her for the SGC. Right now, they didn’t really need her skills. She was a scientist, a geomorphologist. She studied landforms, traced the history of an area through the layers of soil and rocks buried at a site. They often could work hand in glove. He studied the human component, she confirmed his suspicions about the geography. She could tell the local climate, average rainfall, type of soils and even give him the relative age of the area, creating sedimentary timelines to flesh out his findings. They’d worked together, writing complementary doctorates for their first PhDs. 

She’d listened to him natter on about mythology for over twenty years and was well-versed in it, for a lay-person. He wasn’t asking for her help with that though, he wanted her advice in cutting through the metaphor in the story and ferreting out the true meanings. The mythological aspect was his purview. He wanted a literal aspect. Mythology often was a metaphor, a way of making inexplicable events understandable. If you stripped away the symbology, what would you be left with? 

He’d asked her to set up the email programs because, well, he had neither the time nor the inclination to do it himself. To be honest, he had tried setting up the account, but had quickly become frustrated by the fact that the logical combinations of his name were already in use by other people. After trying at least a half-dozen user names without success, he’d left the whole mess to her. And look what it had gotten him. _Culture Boy_. He shook his head. She had a terrible sense of humour. She liked to mess with him sometimes, in the guise of ‘expanding his horizons’. No doubt she was chuckling merrily in her office in New York over his supposed indignation about the odd user name and the scandalous password. He’d already changed the password to something more staid and predictable… the opposite of what a password should be, he knew. 

He could, of course, just use his SGC email but he’d taken great care not to tell Emma anything classified about the project. No need to give her a military email address to wonder over. Emma didn’t even know Jack’s last name, and probably didn’t realise that Sam was a woman. Teal’c was from out of town and that was it. He’d only had to tell her once that his job was classified. She gave him a long look that said she wasn’t happy about it, but then nodded and let the matter drop. She was just happy that he was working in archaeology again. 

He picked up a small artifact and turned it over in his hands, examining it. Someday, he hoped he could tell her the truth. She told him once that her first clear memory was of him giving her a lecture about how important honesty was. They could be friends, but they had to promise to tell the truth. He’d made her swear in his solemn, serious way. Always tell the truth to me, Em. It’s all you have to remember… 

Remember Omoroca. 

He twitched at the voice and the memory of pain. He gasped as that memory became reality. Daniel curled up, his head dropping to the top of his desk, fists clenched to his temples. This was too much. Too much. 

Knowledge. You have knowledge. 

"God." He squeezed the word past gritted teeth, tilting his head from side to side on the smooth surface of the desk. "I don’t know." 

And Tiamat roared… She smote... Their way was evil... 

"Evil." He clutched his hands to his head as the words flowed through his mind. "They were evil because they were Goa’uld. Tiamat knew that. The story said that she wanted to overthrow all the other gods. They were too noisy." 

The knowledge is there. In your mind. 

"Too noisy." He groaned. 

What fate Omoroca? 

"Shut up." He banged his forehead softly on the desk. "Shut up, shut up, shut up…" 

"Daniel Jackson?" 

The sounds in his head abruptly cut off as Daniel sat bolt upright. "Teal’c." He swept back his long hair and blinked at the Jaffa. 

"Are you not well, Daniel Jackson?" The big man looked down at him with well-disguised, but still appreciable, concern. 

Daniel’s eyes dropped to his desk. He flattened out his hands and ran them across the wooden surface. "I’m fine." 

The Jaffa lifted an eyebrow. "You did not appear to be ‘fine’." 

"Uh… residual headache. Slept on my neck wrong." He put a hand to the back of his neck and massaged it half-heartedly. His eyes briefly touched on Teal’c and then immediately slid to the doorframe and down to the floor. "C- Can I help you?" He turned business-like and hoped that would get the far-too-observant Jaffa off his track. 

Teal’c gave him a long silent stare. Daniel squirmed a little, darting glances at him occasionally, and rubbing his neck. Finally the Jaffa gave in. "I have brought the recordings taken by SG2 on their last mission." 

Daniel perked up. "Oh great, I was looking forward to these. Thanks Teal’c." He held his hand out and took the papers and tapes, turning away and shuffling happily through them. He pointedly turned his back on the Jaffa and was relieved when Teal’c took the hint and walked away. 

Daniel gave himself thirty seconds before he dropped the papers to the desk and covered his eyes with his hand. This was getting disruptive. He had to get his mind off of Omoroca… Tiamat… all of it. Omoroca was dead. 

Wasn’t she? 

\- - - - - 

Daniel dreamed. He had finally stumbled to the couch, too tired to translate a language he knew as well as English. The work kept his mind off of Omoroca and her terrible ending. He spent every spare moment thinking on it. Was there something more he could have told Nem? Did he miss something? It was only with great effort that he focused on his SGC work and once he grew too tired to focus on that, his dream caught him up and threw him back into memory. 

And against the gods my fathers thou hast contrived thy wicked plan.  
Let then thy host be equipped, let thy weapons be girded on!  
Stand! I and thou, let us join battle! 

Hot wind assailed his senses as he stood in the path of two great monsters. Omoroca as Tiamat rose above him. She was a great dragon, flames leaping from her fanged mouth, her body hidden by clouds of smoke and ash. Daniel fell as Tiamat took a step, her great weight making the earth heave under his feet. He shook as hot cinders fell, burning his face. 

Marduk stood watching. He gleamed, wrapped in his golden armour. In his hands, he held a lightning bolt. Daniel put his hand up, shielding his eyes from the glare. Marduk drew back his hands and gestured. The lightning bolts flew toward the dragon, impacting her side. 

Tiamat screamed, throwing her head back. Daniel was flattened to the ground by a terrible wind. He shielded his head as Marduk strode forward. Tiamat shook as the gales hit her. The winds surrounded her head, driving into her throat. He watched, horrified, as the dragon’s belly began to swell, distorting. 

The lightning slammed in again, blinding Daniel as he huddled on the ground. Tiamat died with a scream, the dragon’s body crumpling in on itself. Daniel dug his fingers into the dirt trying to find some stability as the earth hitched and shook, like a mad horse trying frantically to buck him off. He cried out as the breath was driven from his lungs by a particularly hard jolt. 

His head jerked up at the sound of a scream and he looked to the side. Marduk stood before a woman, lightning striking her from his open fist. Daniel’s mouth dropped open as Marduk drove a spear into the woman’s belly. She screamed and doubled over. 

"No!" He cried, unable to tear his gaze away. Lightning struck the ground all around as Marduk unleashed his anger on the allies and minions of Omoroca. He stepped callously over the body of the woman and approached the body of the dragon. 

"He cut her asunder." Daniel sobbed. 

Marduk rained lightning upon the dragon until her body shuddered and split. He watched as Marduk gestured. Half of the body rose to become a covering for the heavens. Half became new land, the earth. Marduk climbed up the corpse until he reached the heavens and he smiled. 

Daniel scrambled to the woman’s side. Her belly was horribly mutilated by the lightning and Marduk’s spear but she yet lived. He touched her face and she looked up at him. He drew in his breath as her eyes met his. She had long blue-black hair and greenish skin. Her eyes were a brilliant sapphire blue, without any white in them at all. She opened her mouth to speak, forcing words past sharp, white teeth, but he could not hear her above the hurricane winds and booming thunder. 

"Who are you?" He yelled. "Who are you?" He brushed her cheek. She looked at him and then to the side. He followed her gaze and ducked his head as he beheld the god Marduk standing over them. Marduk’s face twisted and he held up his hand. 

Daniel screamed as the lightning bolt tore him apart. 

\- - - - - 

"No!" Daniel sat bolt upright hands clawing the air. He drew in heaving breaths as he looked around and recognised his office. He wiped a shaky hand across his lips and swung his feet to the floor. This was getting to be too much. He waited for the sound of the SFs running in to investigate his screams. His breathing stilled and he let out a long sigh. Good. The scream must have been only in his dream. 

He looked at the clock. Three in the morning. Jack would kill him if he called. Despite that, his fingers twitched toward the phone. He needed Jack to tell him how dumb he was being to be spooked by L.W. King’s hundred year old translation of a four thousand year old story. 

What fate Omoroca? 

He groaned and clutched his head. _Dead, dammit. She was dead._ He just watched her die, blown to pieces by the god Marduk. 

Remember… Omoroca 

"Shut up, shut up, shut up. Let me sleep. Please, God, let me sleep." He crawled back onto the couch, and curled up into a ball. He wrapped his arms around his chest and slept sitting up, head resting on the back of the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. 

\- - - - - 

<chapter two>

Jack

stopped in front of Daniel’s office door in the morning. SG1 was on stand-down following the incident on Oannes. Everyone needed to calm down and get their heads on straight before Hammond would allow them through the gate again. 

Jack frowned at the closed door, wondering if Daniel was coming in to work. They’d moved his boxes back into his apartment yesterday, as a surprise for him, while he was working on the base. Maybe he had stayed home today, unpacking. He tried the knob softly and found it unlocked. His frown deepened as he slowly opened the door, trying not to startle the wily anthropologist in its dangerously pre-caffeinated state. 

He stuck his head in and didn’t see anyone at home. "Daniel?" He called quietly, looking from side to side. He opened the door wider and stepped in. As the light from the hall crept into the darkened office, he made out a form curled on the couch. "Jesus, Daniel." Jack exclaimed, moving forward. 

The linguist not only looked like something the cat dragged in, he looked like something the cat had killed, played with, buried for a week and _then_ dragged in. He was sweating and shivering, arms wrapped around his torso. He was asleep, huddled into as small a ball as he could manage, wedged into a corner of the couch. Jack felt a lump rise in his throat. Daniel looked like all the minions of hell were on his heels. 

He crouched and touched Daniel’s cheek with the back of his hand. "Dammit." He whispered. Daniel was burning up. Jack stood and stepped over to linguist’s desk and picked up the phone, dialling the infirmary. He turned to look at Daniel as the phone was picked up on the other end. 

"Infirmary. Dr. Fraiser speaking." 

"Janet. It’s Jack. Could you come by Daniel’s office please?" 

"Is there a problem, Colonel?" Janet’s voice was all polite concern. 

"Just come up here with your gear. Thanks." 

"I’ll be right there." 

He hung up the phone and settled himself on the edge of the desk. What was wrong with the archaeologist? He hoped it was just the flu, but they way Daniel had been acting for the last two days made it unlikely. He seemed fine when they found him on Oannes, lucid and even animated. He made it back to the SGC under his own power and collapsed onto his bed in the infirmary. Tired. He pled off any debriefings. Daniel almost never admitted to being tired, so they knew it had to be serious. They’d let him sleep and deferred the briefings until the next day… after he’d gotten nearly sixteen hours of rest. 

Janet took blood work, blood pressures, hooked Daniel up to half a dozen machines and pronounced him tired, dehydrated, hungry but healthy. Daniel slept through most of the first day. He seemed fine the second day, restless the second night. The third day, he was falling asleep in his office and Jack had been infuriated by Daniel’s revelations about Nem’s ‘hospitality’. 

Day four was not looking any better. Jack turned at Janet’s soft rap on the door. She peeked her head in. "Colonel." 

Jack jerked his head, pointing her in Daniel’s direction. Janet took a few steps in and squinted into the dim room. Spotting her patient, she picked her way over to the sofa, and sat down on the cushion next to the scientist. 

"Doctor Jackson?" She whispered, reaching out her hand and touching his forehead. Jack did not miss how her mouth tightened up. So, he wasn’t imagining how sick the kid was. Great. Janet touched Daniel’s cheek. "Alright, Doctor Jackson, time to wake up." She patted his cheek. 

Janet jumped back as Daniel woke with a start, jumping back until his backside was on the arm of the couch, back to the wall. He held his hands out defensively, warding off Janet. Jack’s brow furrowed. He’d woken up the almost the same way the last time. Whatever he was fighting off in his dreams was evidently persistent. 

With a long sigh, Daniel came back to himself, more or less and slumped in place. Jack helped him back onto the couch. 

"How are you feeling, Doctor Jackson?" Janet asked, putting her hand on his forehead. 

"Tired." Daniel rasped, closing his eyes and letting his head drop to rest against the back of the couch. 

"How are you sleeping?" 

Daniel gave a sharp little laugh, mouth curling up into an unpleasant smile for a moment as he rolled his head from side to side. "Sleeping too much. Not resting." 

Janet and Jack exchanged glances. Janet turned back to the anthropologist. "Doctor Jackson, I’d like you to come to the infirmary. You’re running a fever." She touched his cheek. Daniel rolled his head back, trapping her hand between his face and shoulder, relishing her cool touch. His bright eyes closed for several long seconds, and he finally nodded. 

He leaned forward and hauled himself off the couch, grabbing Jack’s sleeve as his wobbly knees threatened to send him right back where he started. Jack steadied him and then drew back, allowing Daniel to make his way out of the office under his own power. Weaving a little on his feet, Daniel nonetheless made it all the way to the infirmary without falling over. 

He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor as Janet bustled around. She pushed Jack out of the room. 

"Come back in an hour, Colonel. I’ll have something to tell you then." She gave him a small smile and turned away. He nodded curtly and walked out of the room. He didn’t go far. He snagged a chair and settled in to wait in the hallway. 

\- - - - - 

From: "Daniel" <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

To: "Emma" <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 22 12:39 

Subject: Dinner Tomorrow 

Attachments: Eff_Use_Prop_edits.doc (844K) 

Em, 

Just to let you know, I’m home, sick. Too much coffee and no rest seem to be bad for a person. Who would have guessed? Jack was quite adamant that I not be allowed to bring any work with me, so I have to content myself with the few tapes and discs I could smuggle out. He drove me home and threatened to slash my tires to keep me here. He means well. 

I read over your paper this morning. Looks good. I put some points on it. I like the photos. Is that your new camera? I’m curious to know how you’re going to explain that black layer in the soil. Forest fires? Check the local native tribes. They may have some stories that will correlate to the timing of that black layer. 

Have you read the files I gave you? This has been something of a priority for me these days. I feel like I’m on the edge of something, but I can pin it down. 

I’ll see you tomorrow. Let yourself in. You know the door’s open. 

D. 

  

From: "Emma C." <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

To: "Daniel J." <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 22 17:10 

Subject: Re: Dinner Tomorrow 

Attachments: ravine.jpg (112K), layer1.jpg (82K), ff_rem.jpg (98K) 

D-kun, 

Konnichiwa! O genki desu ka? Well, I guess not, huh? As you can tell, I’ve been practicing Japanese again. I just found out that I’m supposed to go to Tokyo in April for some sort of summit / environmental meeting / drinking party. I think I’ll book a couple extra days and skip down to Kyoto. February’s not the greatest time to go, but you know how I love Kyoto! 

Are you sure you’ll be up to dinner? Maybe I better switch to soft foods like soup or oatmeal. Darn, and I was so looking forward to nutrients. Oh well. Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll take care of everything. If you admit to being sick, then it’s probably the plague. Rest up. I’m bringing a Miyazaki movie with me so I can practice my Nihon-go. 

Since you expressed so much interest in it, I’m sending you a few photos I had scanned. 

Thanks for the edits. They look good, and don’t think I didn’t notice your snide little asides about Doctor Pendegrast. I know he can be such an ass. Pompous buffoon, yes. Deserving of a dip in a piranha filled river… no. 

Finally, the Babylonian thing. I’m working on it, I’m working on it. ;) You still didn’t tell me quite what I’m looking for here, so I’m feeling my way through. What I can tell so far… Omoroca appears to be another name for Tiamat. There certainly are similarities in the stories. The Berosus account that comes from Syncellus sounds like the Chaldean Thavatth/Tiamat myth. I’d bet dollars to dolomite that they are the same. What’s with all the monsters that Omoroca/Tiamat creates? Is it just her position as the chaos goddess? There doesn’t seem to be much purpose for them otherwise. She makes ‘em and Marduk mushes ‘em. Isn’t that special? I’m thinking though that there’s more to this dragon than the myth says. Think it might be a metaphor for something else? 

I’ll see you tomorrow. Lock yer damn door! I still have a key from last time. I’ll use that. 

Ja mata! 

xo. Emma 

  

From: "Daniel" <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

To: "Emma" <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 22 19:27 

Subject: Dinner Tomorrow 

Attachments: berosus.pdf 

E-chan, 

Boku wa genki dewa nai! Byouki da yo! I’m jealous as well. I’d love to get back to Kyoto and Nara and play tourist again. If you get back to Yasaka Shrine, see if you can find that vendor who makes little animals out of pistachio shells. Get a fish for me. I know someone who will like it. 

I’m looking forward to dinner, especially if I don’t have to cook. Make oatmeal but use coffee instead of water and I’ll be happy. 

The photos were great, thanks. I still don’t understand how you found a h/g fault in a predominantly strike-slip fault area, but that’s why you’re the dirt doctor and I’m… not. 

I’ve included some more of Berosus’s information as he seems to be my primary source of information of Omoroca. Maybe that will help you. As for the myths. I am also concentrating on the dragon… a lot. Some of the myths call Omoroca a woman, and then all of a sudden, she’s a dragon. If the myth is serving as a metaphor for a real world occurrence, what would it be? I think finding out what the dragon represents will put this into perspective for me. 

I’ll leave the door open. I forgot to tell you that I changed the locks a while back and your key won’t work. 

See you tomorrow, 

D. 

\- - - - - 

And against the gods my fathers thou hast contrived thy wicked plan.  
Let then thy host be equipped, let thy weapons be girded on!  
Stand! I and thou, let us join battle! 

Once again, Daniel found himself on the field of death, caught between Marduk and Tiamat, the draconian aspect of Omoroca. He watched as their final battle played out. This time, he made out more detail. He stood on a beach, and the monster, Tiamat was walking toward the shoreline from the water. The sea was hot, scalding his legs and forcing him to shore. 

Marduk stood waiting in his golden armour. He held high his lightning bolt. Again, Daniel put his hand up, shielding his eyes from the glare. Marduk laughed as his bolts struck Tiamat. Daniel squinted up at the sky. The bolts came not from Marduk’s hand, but from the heavens above. They swooped down upon Tiamat with almost a sentient precision. 

Tiamat screamed, throwing her head back. Daniel doubled over and covered his ears, trying to block out the horrible sound. The wind whipped up the waves, splashing him with near boiling water. Daniel cried out and tried to crawl away on all fours. He blinked as the beach sand scratched his eyes. Marduk strode forward. Tiamat shook as the gales hit her. The winds surrounded her head, driving into her throat. The dragon’s belly began to swell again, distorting and trembling. 

The lightning slammed in again, blinding Daniel as he huddled on the ground. Tiamat died with a scream, the dragon’s body crumpling in on itself. Daniel buried his fingers in the soil, riding out the small quakes caused by Tiamat’s demise. He saw stars as the final jolt snapped his face into the sand and rocks. 

He heard a woman’s scream. Marduk attacked the raven-haired woman, lightning striking her from his open fist. The lightning turned into a staff… a spear. Daniel screamed a denial as Marduk drove the spear into the woman’s belly. The woman collapsed with a howl. 

"No!" He cried, unable to tear his gaze away. Lightning struck the ground all around as Marduk unleashed his anger on the allies and minions of Omoroca. He stepped callously over the body of the woman and approached the body of the dragon. 

"He cut her asunder." Daniel groaned. He buried his face in the sand. 

Marduk rained lightning upon the dragon until her body shuddered and split. He watched as Marduk gestured. Half of the body rose to become a covering for the heavens. Half became new land, the earth. Marduk climbed up the corpse until he reached the heavens and he smiled. 

Daniel scrambled to the woman’s side and tried not to look at her terrible wounds. He touched her face and she looked up at him. "Who are you?" He yelled, trying to make himself heard above the gale. She opened her mouth to speak, forcing words past sharp, white teeth, but he could not hear her. He leaned closer. 

"Who are you?" He yelled. He put his hands on her cheeks, drawing her gaze to himself. She looked at him and then turned a frightened gaze to the side. He looked up at the god Marduk standing over them. Marduk’s face twisted and he held up his hand. His eyes glowed a brilliant yellow. 

Daniel screamed as the lightning bolt tore him apart. 

\- - - - - 

<chapter three>

"No, 

Jack." Daniel wheezed into the phone. He was bundled up in bed, covers up to his chin, discarded kleenexes scattered around him. He sniffed and then coughed to one side before turning back to the phone. "I’ll be fine today. I just want to rest. How about you come by for dinner tomorrow? I’ll be a lot better by then, and if not… um… you can make something appropriate for me. Sound good?" 

He listened patiently for a moment, looking up as he heard the front door open and close. Despite her words, he’d left it open again. He made the appropriate sounds at the appropriate pauses in Jack’s ‘take care of yourself’ speech. He smiled as a woman’s head peeked into the bedroom. He held up a finger to her. 

"Jack… really. I’ll be fine by myself. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?" He paused. "I am eating." Another pause and he looked uncomfortable. "Um… oatmeal?" He winced and held the phone slightly away from his ear. Emma could hear the yelling from the hallway. Finally it quietened down. "Okay, I’m sorry Jack. You’re right. I haven’t eaten, but I will. A… neighbour just brought over some chicken noodle soup. Really." 

Daniel paused and then smiled. "I’m a civilian, Jack. Yeah. Yeah, I will. Alright. Good-bye." The last word turned into a coughing fit as the phone snugged back in its cradle. 

" ‘Fine by myself’? ‘A neighbour’?" Emma crossed her arms and cocked her head. " _Waarom?_ Afraid of them finding out about me?" 

Daniel snuffled pathetically into his Kleenex and fidgeted. " _Nee. Ik niet…_ Em. It’s not like that. I’ve told you." 

Emma leaned against the doorframe and wrapped her arms around her chest. Her curly, brown hair was cut shorter than he remembered. It was shorter than his, tousled and unruly. Emma’s golden eyes looked at him kindly behind the circular rims of her glasses. She chuckled and straightened up. 

Emma walked around to Daniel’s side of the bed and put her hand to his forehead. "You look like something you might dig up, Charlie Brown." Daniel ducked his head, chuckling at her pet name for him. The original poor, ne’er-do-well, sensitive boy. She started calling him that when they lived together as room-mates in college, and it somehow stuck with him. 

"I feel like something I dug up." He complained with a small smile. Emma stayed still for a moment, looking fondly down on her friend. She brushed his cheek with her fingertips. At least he was smiling. She remembered all the times, all the years when there was precious little that would brighten his sombre face. 

She thought she’d lost him when he disappeared for a year, only to receive a rambling note in a half a dozen languages telling of some fantastic dig he’d been on and the incredible story of the woman he’d met, married, grown to love and then lost to some strange group… maybe a cult. Daniel offered no details. This was only the second time she’d seen him since his return from that mysterious land. She knew him well enough to know how heavily the pain weighed him down, but she was also relieved to see that he could be happy again. Some day, she would like to meet these new friends of his, and thank them for giving Daniel back his smile… small and tentative though it may be. Perhaps they could continue the miracle-making and bring him back his wife. 

She broke off her contemplations as Daniel began to look concerned and softly touched her arm. "Em…?" He began. She cleared her throat and grinned, back to business… 

"Okay, well, try not to ooze on me." She put her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. In return, Daniel wrapped one arm around her waist and leaned his head on her shoulder with a sigh. They broke apart as he started to cough. She sat down on the edge of the bed and cocked her head at him. 

"So… what’s this about living on coffee and chocolate again?" Emma frowned sternly. She didn’t bother asking him where he picked up this happy little plague. Probably something super-secret. If he could tell her, he would. 

Daniel had the good sense to look slightly ashamed of himself. "You know how it is." 

Emma sighed. "God… don’t I. Why don’t _you_ ever gain weight?" She made a move to pinch her waist. Daniel made a little congested snort of laughter. 

"Em, I don’t think you’ve ever been concerned about your weight in your life." He shook his head. 

"Well, I can pretend to have some insecure feminine qualities, can’t I?" She gave him a look of mock outrage. 

He blinked at her. "Oh, Em… you’re plenty, um, feminine." He waved a hand. "You… uh… knit." 

"Hush!" She put her hand over his mouth. "The house could be bugged." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. He laughed and then leaned forward so his forehead touched hers. 

"You know… chocolate helps fight the flu." He suggested hopefully. Emma’s marble mocha cookies got them through their first doctorates. He could usually count on her to bring some when she visited. It was a time-honoured tradition between them. 

Emma made an indelicate sound. "I have yet to see conclusive evidence of _that_ theory." She paused and then smiled. "Soup?" 

Daniel perked up slightly. "What kind?" 

"Home made." Emma grinned. "Turkey, mushroom, wild rice, the usual." 

In response, Daniel held out his hands and motioned with his fingers. "Please." He husked. The woman nodded and turned. "Coffee?" Daniel called after her hopefully. 

Emma stuck her head back in the bedroom door. "Orange juice." She said sternly. "But if you’re good, I’ll let you smell my cup." She winked as he groaned. 

Emma paused in the living room and called back to Daniel. "What’s with all the boxes, Charlie? You planning to move?" 

No… I was declared dead. They managed to get my apartment back and a third of my boxes unpacked, but an alien device scrambled my brain followed by an evil flu virus which Janet thinks mutated in my system when the alien owner of the aforementioned alien device kept me hostage in wet clothes with no food or sleep for days… but I can’t tell you that because I work for a top secret military organisation who spends its days exploring distant planets through a gate made of a metal not found on this planet trying to combat alien parasites nested around the spines of innocent people. The rambling explanation tumbled through his admittedly feverish mind. "Uh… change of plans." Was all he said. 

\- - - - - 

Half an hour later, the soup was warmed up, the juice had been poured and Emma was helping Daniel out of bed. He was wearing a t-shirt and sweats. She bullied him into putting on a pair of thick socks and then settled him down on the couch, piling blankets around him. He floundered for a bit until he freed his arms and shoulders and then sat back against the mound of pillows. 

He closed his eyes and made a purring sound in his throat as Emma brought him a bowl of soup and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. "God, I missed this." Strange to think of soup as comfort food, but there you go. Whatever gets you through poor graduate student days and lean years of research. 

"Eat up." She replied. "I made a huge batch. I put a couple of containers in your freezer already." She shot him a sly look and muttered sotto voce, "And some cookies." 

Despite his plugged ears and swimming head, the magic words got through and he straightened up. "Cookies? You did bring me cookies, didn’t you? Home-made, right?" He knew she would, but it was nice to have it confirmed. 

Emma shrugged. "Maybe." Daniel nudged her hip with his foot. She laughed but made no reply. With a determined effort, he worked his toe loose and jabbed her in the side. "Ow! Of _course_ I brought cookies. Pushy little brat, aren’t you?" 

"I am, in fact, older than _you_." Daniel glared. 

"By one day." Emma scoffed. She took a mouthful of soup and muttered through it, "Mrbe m’ka cooks." 

Daniel made a little whining noise as he attempted to extract himself from the blanket prison, arms flailing. 

"Soup!" Emma called, putting her bowl on the coffee table and grabbing his before he could do any damage. "After soup you can have one." 

He blinked resentfully at her. "Mocha cookies, and I can only have one?" 

Emma shrugged heartlessly. "Why would I waste them on someone who can’t even taste them?" She handed him the soup bowl back. "Sit, eat, movie." 

\- - - - - 

Four hours, one movie, two bowls of soup and half a dozen cookies later, Daniel muttered darkly as he nursed his mug of hot lemon and honey. Emma still sat next to him on the couch, evidently savouring her mug of coffee. Daniel’s eyes followed her mug as she took long sips and sighed happily, hamming it up for his benefit. Every so often, as she was about to take a drink, he would nudge her in the ribs with his toe and try to make her spill. 

"Bed?" She finally queried, setting her empty mug down on the coffee table. Daniel thought about it for a moment and then nodded. 

"Where’re you going to sleep?" 

"I’ll take the couch." She stretched and twisted the kinks out of her back. 

"Plenty of room." He nodded his head to the bedroom. Jack would kill him if he could see him now. Sharing a bed with a woman while Sha’re was God knows where. Still, it was different with Emma. It was a safe kind of sharing, like a teddy-bear… although the geomorphologist in question would cheerfully strangle him if she knew he thought of her in those cute and cuddly terms. When they were kids in that first foster home, they often curled up together. They both had their fair share of demons. All he could say was that it felt safe to him. Secure. Right now, he wanted that more than he wanted any notions of propriety. 

Emma had called it a ‘puppy pile’ after seeing the adorable boneless sleep of some neighbour’s dogs. The pups didn’t care how they slept or whom they were with, they just curled up for the security and comfort. That was what he offered Emma. 

Emma just laughed kindly. "And have you give me that death flu of yours? I think not." 

He smiled wanly and allowed her to help him back to bed. After she tucked him in, she kissed him on the forehead and ruffled his hair fondly. He settled in and quickly fell asleep. 

\- - - - - 

And against the gods my fathers thou hast contrived thy wicked plan.  
Let then thy host be equipped, let thy weapons be girded on!  
Stand! I and thou, let us join battle! 

Daniel moaned as the powerful voice rang out somewhere nearby. He stood, immersed up to his knees in the scalding water, as the giant dragon Tiamat screamed her fury to the skies. He stumbled hastily to shore, hissing at the pain. He could see the dragon’s sinuous body a little more clearly this time, undulating and rippling behind the gathering storm clouds. 

As before, Marduk stood, wrapped in his golden armour. He held high his lightning bolt. Daniel recognised this scene from his earlier dream. He did not hide this time, but squinted against the glare. He needed to know more. Marduk laughed as his bolts struck Tiamat. Daniel spun back and looked up at the sky. The bolts came not from Marduk’s hand, but from the heavens above. They swooped down upon Tiamat with almost a sentient precision and an ungodly shriek. The sound was familiar. Despite the danger, Daniel closed his eyes and hung his head, trying to concentrate only on that sound. 

Tiamat screamed, throwing her head back, disturbing his thoughts. Daniel winced at the volume. He dropped to his knees as the wind rushed up and crawled out of the way before the scaling waves could find him. Marduk strode forward. Tiamat shook as the gales hit her. The storms surrounded her head, invading her gigantic body. The dragon’s belly began to swell again, distorting and trembling. 

The lightning slammed in again, blinding Daniel as he huddled on the ground. Tiamat died with a scream, the dragon’s body not crumbling this time, but rearing upwards in a gout of flame and ash. Daniel clutched the ground, riding out the small quakes caused by Tiamat’s demise. He saw stars as the final jolt snapped his face into the sand and rocks. 

He shook it off as he heard the woman’s scream. Marduk attacked the raven-haired woman, golden light striking her from his open fist. The lightning turned into a staff… a spear… a staff weapon. Daniel screamed a denial as Marduk fired at the woman’s belly. She collapsed with a howl. 

"No!" He cried, unable to tear his gaze away. Lightning struck the ground all around as Marduk unleashed his anger on the allies and minions of Omoroca. The lightning struck from the heavens again with that same familiar sound. Marduk stepped callously over the body of the woman and approached the body of the dragon. 

"He cut her asunder." Daniel whispered. 

Marduk rained lightning upon the dragon until her body shuddered and split. He watched as Marduk gestured. The body did not rise, it exploded. Fire lit the sky like thousands of meteorites, and storm clouds billowed up. Natural lightning rippled across the burnt out husk of the dragon. Marduk climbed up the corpse until he reached the heavens and he smiled. 

Daniel scrambled to the woman’s side and tried to treat her terrible wounds. This time, though, he took a moment to view her overall appearance for anything that might help him decipher this event. He touched her face and she looked up at him. "Who are you?" He yelled, trying to make himself heard above the gale. She opened her mouth to speak, forcing words past sharp, white teeth, but he could not hear her. He leaned closer. 

"Who are you?" He yelled. He put his hands on her cheeks, drawing her gaze to himself. She looked at him and then turned a frightened gaze to the side. He looked up at the god Marduk standing over them. Marduk’s face twisted and he held up his hand. His eyes glowed a brilliant yellow. 

Daniel screamed as the Goa’uld hand device tore him apart. 

\- - - - - 

"Daniel!" An urgent voice called to him as he thrashed from side to side. "Daniel!" Hands shook him awake. 

His eyes opened and fixed on a pair of frightened, golden eyes, only inches from his own. Marduk! Goa’uld! He lashed out, striking the Goa’uld in the face, dumping it bonelessly backward. 

"Tabernac!" The Goa’uld swore as it writhed on the ground. The sheer incongruity of that snapped Daniel instantly awake. A litany of soft curses in three or four languages emerged from the figure huddled against the closet door holding her face. 

"Oh, God!" Daniel gasped. "Emma." He kicked the covers until he could wriggle free of the blankets and slid off the bed to the floor, prying Emma’s fingers away from her bruised face. The cursing continued as he tilted her face up to the light she had evidently turned on before trying to rouse him. 

"I’m fine." She grunted, hand returning to her eye. It was just lucky that she had not put on her glasses before bolting to his room. "That was a hell of a nightmare, Charlie." She got to her feet, levering herself up with her back to the door. "Are you okay?" 

Daniel shook his head. "I don’t know. I have these dreams, Em. They’re so vivid. It’s just…" He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat back, leaning against the side of his bed. His hair fell forward, covering his eyes. Emma reached out a hand and touched his cheek for a moment. 

"You’re soaked. Your fever must have spiked. Go get a shower, grab some pyjamas and get back into bed. I’m going to find some frozen peas for my eye and then we’ll talk, okay?" 

It was probably indicative of how poorly he was feeling that Daniel did not argue. He let Emma pull him to his feet and he stumbled into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

\- - - - - 

Fifteen minutes later, he was back in his bedroom. Emma had stripped and changed the sheets and remade the bed before bullying him into taking a good dose of cold medicine. Daniel had indulged in a nice cool shower, which helped lower his fever a touch. He then changed into pyjamas. Emma was in a pair of plaid drawstring bottoms and a plain black t-shirt. Daniel squinted suspiciously at the trousers. 

"Aren’t those mine?" He asked. 

Emma whistled innocently as she padded back out to the living room. "You left them at my house, what, three years ago? Fair game. You snooze, you lose, Culture Boy." She slumped down onto the couch and patted the cushions invitingly. "Come on. We have our PJs on and you finally smell human again. Let’s talk about this dream of yours." She propped herself up, putting a pillow behind her lower back. A frozen bag of peas was pressed against her bruised eye, keeping down the swelling. Daniel sidled up beside her, leaning against her shoulder. 

He took her free hand and played with her fingers, a favourite stalling tactic of his. She had hurt her hand in grade school, and her smallest finger no longer straightened up properly. He knew that the damaged joint was prone to arthritic pains, so he massaged it gently as he started his story. 

"A few days ago, I was part of an… experiment. Kind of a hypnosis, I guess." Emma’s eyes narrowed. Daniel wasn’t being completely honest, but she knew that his job was something secret. "Ever since then, I’ve been having these… _dreams_." 

"What was the point of the hypnosis?" She asked, looking at his fingers entwined with hers. 

"I was trying to remember some old stories I had heard about Omoroca." 

Emma’s eyebrow twitched, but she did not ask any of the obvious questions. "I take it that the hypnosis was successful?" 

Daniel closed his eyes and dropped his head forward until his chin touched his chest. "Too successful, I’d say. Now I can’t think of anything but Omoroca." 

"Can your… hypnotist help?" 

The linguist’s head shook. "He’s gone. I don’t know if I could reach him again." 

Emma visibly bit back a comment about that. "So what was the point of the hypnosis?" She asked again, looking for more clarification. "Trying to remember everything about Omoroca, or something different?" 

Daniel gave a little grin. "What fate Omoroca?" He said, repeating the words that had haunted his every moment for days. 

"What fate…?" Emma frowned. "Easy. She died." 

Wet hair slid down across Daniel’s face as he shook his head. "I’m not so sure anymore." 

Emma gathered him in her arms, pulling him close. Daniel’s head dropped to burrow against her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist as she put her arms around his shoulders. "Tell me the dream." She said softly, stroking his cheek. 

Slowly she pried what details she could from him. He couldn’t mention anything about the Goa’uld to her. He described the boiling water, the dragon, the storms and the incredible destruction. By the time he finished, Emma had a thoughtful look on her face. 

He put a hand up and touched her cheek. "What are you thinking, Em?" 

She came back to him with a little start. "Oh. Just thinking of a class I wanted to teach next term. I was thinking about running a course to look at historical events in a geomorphological context. For example… the painter Turner was always considered an Impressionist because of his fantastic sunsets. Someone checked out the timelines, and when Turner was painting correlates to the timing of a massive volcanic eruption… I think it was Krakatoa. Anyway, the upshot is that he wasn’t an Impressionist, he was a realist. Volcanic eruptions can create incredible sunsets because of all the particulate matter in the atmosphere. Look at other flood mythologies, especially among northern cultures. Often these stories were created to explain away the features left by ice ages and glacial events. I’m thinking Tiamat is not the goddess herself, but illustrative of some more mundane event. Let me check when I get home tomorrow. I have some ideas." 

Daniel nodded. "Thank you, Em." He yawned. 

"Why don’t you get some sleep?" She put her hand to his forehead. "You’re still feverish." 

"I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want that dream again." 

Emma shuffled them both until they were lying on their sides. "You need to sleep." She kissed his forehead. "I’ll watch over you." 

Daniel rearranged himself until he was curled up on his side with his head pillowed on her stomach, arm draped over her hips. Emma chuckled. "I can’t believe you still like to sleep like that. We’re not ten anymore." 

"Comfy." He muttered, almost asleep. 

"Yeah, well, I’m thirty-two now with the heartburn to prove it. If you can sleep through my stomach gurgling in your ear all night, good on you." She dumped the bag of peas on the floor and got comfortable, one hand on Daniel’s neck. 

The linguist slept deeply, his dreams kept at bay by the warding touch of his oldest friend. 

<chapter four>

Daniel

woke in the morning, curled up against a warm body. He missed this in the long months since Sha’re had been taken. It wasn’t so much the sex with Sha’re that he missed… although that certainly was nice. It was more that there was a great deal of comfort in the sharing of space with another being. He missed her companionship, her presence. He missed _her_. 

He sat up as Emma stretched every muscle in her body. His smile fell as she blinked up at him. He’d given her an impressive black eye. Judicious application of frozen peas was likely the only thing that kept it from swelling shut completely. 

She frowned… and immediately regretted it. "Ow." Her fingers delicately probed the bruised flesh. 

"Jesus, Em. I’m sorry." 

" _De nada, amigo_. You weren’t exactly yourself, you know?" She sat up. "Lucky thing I don’t have any classes for a few days." She sniffed. "Oh crud… I hope I’m not getting your cold." 

Daniel looked over at her, eyebrows lifting. "Well… turkey soup seems to help." 

Emma chuckled and slid out of bed. "I need to borrow your shower. I have to catch a plane in a few hours. New York and my ungrateful students await." She got up to fetch her clothes. As she got to the door, she looked back at him. "How are you feeling?" 

Daniel’s eyebrows went up as he gave her question serious consideration. "Good. I think I’m feeling better." 

"Figures." She shot over her shoulder as she left the room. 

One shower and a three cups of coffee later, Emma and Daniel were dressed and back on the couch. Emma gestured at Daniel with her mug. She had cut him off after one cup, and he was back to glaring at her mug balefully. " _Okee, tovarich_. I have an idea. Give me a day to check on some stuff and I’ll get back to you, good?" 

Daniel nodded. "Thanks, Em." 

"Charlie… I want you to talk to this Jack-fellow. From what you’ve told me, I think he’ll listen." Daniel looked sideways. "I’m serious. I don’t like leaving you here like this. Those dreams are pretty intense." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Daniel… please? Promise me." 

The archaeologist sighed. "I promise, Em." 

\- - - - - 

Daniel was stirring a pot of turkey soup when the doorbell rang. "It’s open!" He called, causing a coughing fit. He dumped the wooden spoon in the pot and stumbled out of the kitchen, kleenex over his mouth. He smiled as he saw Jack walk in the room. 

"Hi, Jack." 

"Don’t ‘hi, Jack’ me, Daniel. What have I told you about locking your doors?" The archaeologist waved him off with no evidence of concern. Jack shook his head and then sniffed the air. "What smells so good?" 

"Soup. Dinner." 

"This from your mystery neighbour last night?" 

"No mystery, Jack. Just a neighbour." Daniel snuffled into his kleenex. "Would you set the table?" He somehow felt the need to keep Emma from Jack, just as he kept much of his friendship with Jack from her. It helped him to keep those worlds separate. His private life was his private life, his work was his work. His team-mates in SG1 were rapidly blurring those lines, insinuating themselves into his private life, and he was happy to have them there. However, until he could really share this with Emma, he preferred not to share Emma with them. 

Jack looked around. "Sure." His eyebrows went up slightly as he saw the coffee table. Two empty soup bowls. Four coffee mugs. A small pile of orange rinds. Very suspicious. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost bet someone stayed over. But, this was Daniel after all. He shrugged it off and set the table. 

Daniel ladled out the soup and Jack made an appreciative noise. "Remind me to thank your mystery neighbour. This smells good." 

"Not a mystery, Jack. Just a neighbour." 

"Is she cute?" 

Daniel nearly choked on his soup. "Jack! Uh… Mrs. Hoffman is over seventy years old." His eyes dropped to the table. "Well, that may be your type…" 

"Ahh." The colonel raised a warning finger. They resumed eating in silence. Finally, Jack had to ask. "So… how you doing?" 

Daniel played with his soup for a moment, before putting the spoon down. 

Jack frowned slightly. "Daniel?" 

The archaeologist looked decidedly uncomfortable. "I’ve been… having dreams." 

"Dreams, Daniel?" The Colonel bit back a comment. He had seen how the dreams had affected Daniel, the stark terror in those blue eyes. 

"I know how that sounds." This was so much easier with Emma. Of course, he had nothing to prove to Emma. He liked Jack, valued his opinion. It was so hard not to come across as a flaky academic sometimes… most times. 

Jack scraped his spoon along the bottom of his bowl for a minute. "Daniel… I want you to tell me if something’s wrong." He dropped the spoon. "Ah, hell… you're a member of my team. I need to know what’s going on." 

Daniel kept playing with his soup. 

Finally Jack sighed and nodded. "About those dreams…?" 

Daniel leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "I think…" His arms crept up, wrapping around his chest. "I think they are the result of Nem’s device. It’s like my subconscious is still searching for the answer to Nem’s question. ‘Where is Omoroca?’. " 

"Is that what had you so spooked back at the base?" 

Daniel’s eyes flickered up at Jack, and then down to his plate. "Yeah." He admitted quietly. "It’s like I’m right there watching Belus kill her… over and over and over." He put his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. "And then he comes for me with a hand device." 

Jack’s expression turned dark and stormy again as the black ops colonel gave serious consideration about what he would do to the sentient, soon-to-be fillet o’ fish on Oannes. "What can we do?" He asked helplessly. 

"I don’t know, Jack." He put his thumb and forefinger together, tapping the tabletop lightly. "I’m close to it, but I don’t have it yet." There. He said it. He had no clue. Neither did Jack. For some reason, it was the latter realisation that scared him the worst. 

"Daniel." Jack sat back in his chair. "Let’s get you back to the base." He made a rolling motion with one hand. "Maybe this Mackenzie guy can help you. He hypnotized Carter, helped us break out of Nem’s little mind games. Maybe he can help you with this… dream." 

Daniel contemplated that offer. As much as he did not want to be under doctor’s care again, so soon after escaping the infirmary, perhaps Jack was right. But then… "You don’t understand, Jack.. I’m not quite sure I want this to go away completely. It’s like I’m seeing what actually happened there. There’s a part of me that really wants to know how this ends." 

Jack made an exasperated noise. "Come on. You’re sick. This is stress, and some leftovers from… _whatever_ Nem did to you. You know how it ends, Daniel. Omoroca is dead. End of story." 

"Is it, Jack?" Daniel’s eyes were bright, both with fever and with a muted excitement. "That’s what I thought back on Oannes when Nem’s machine…" He clenched his fists next to his head. "Did what it did. That’s what the dreams seem to be saying, but despite that… now… I’m not so sure." 

"Well, then let’s get you to Fraiser. She can monitor you." Jack touched Daniel’s forehead briefly. "You still have a fever. You need rest." 

Abruptly, Daniel stood, gathering up the dirty dishes. "You’re right, Jack. I just need some sleep." His hands were shaking hard enough to make the spoons rattle in the bowl. Jack stood and rescued the dishes before anything disastrous could happen. 

"Dammit…" He began. 

The archaeologist cut him off with a wave of a hand. "Jack… please. Not tonight. I’m going to go to bed. You can…" 

"Sleep on the couch, yes, I know." Jack said with finality. 

Daniel pursed his lips and hunched his shoulders. He was going to suggest that Jack let himself out, but the Colonel’s body language spoke eloquently as to where he could file _that_ notion. Finally, Daniel released the breath he’d been holding and gave Jack a little half smile. 

"Alright. I’ll get you some blankets." Jack was not happy. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, shoulders held stiffly. Daniel allowed himself to be bullied into his big bed. Jack managed to restrain himself, and not tuck in his civilian. 

"Get some sleep." He said gruffly. "Any problems and we’re calling Fraiser. I mean it, Daniel." 

The archaeologist smiled. "Thanks, Jack." 

"Yeah." The Colonel sighed, realising that once again, his authority had been undermined. "Night." 

Daniel closed his eyes and slid under the covers. When Emma stayed, she managed to keep the dreams at bay, if only for a short while. Perhaps Jack would have a similar warding effect. Despite himself, he smiled. He couldn’t quite see Jack allowing him to curl up with his head on the Colonel’s stomach. _No really, Jack, it helps me sleep. That’s it. Hah._

What fate Omoroca? The thought stirred treacherously in his mind, despite his efforts to relax. 

What fate indeed? 

\- - - - - 

And against the gods my fathers thou hast contrived thy wicked plan.  
Let then thy host be equipped, let thy weapons be girded on!  
Stand! I and thou, let us join battle! 

Daniel floundered to the shore before the pain of the hot water could register. One good thing about this dream, he was getting the hang of it now. The giant dragon Tiamat screamed her fury to the skies. He stumbled hastily further inland, knowing now to avoid the waves that would soon be whipped up by the wind. In the distance, Tiamat spread her wings, undulating and rippling behind the gathering storm clouds. She almost seemed to be made of storm clouds. Sparks shot from her mouth, like small meteorites. 

Daniel ignored Marduk, searching the skies for the bolts of lightning. He tilted his head and closed his eyes, waiting for that almost familiar sound. His eyes shot open as he heard and placed the noise. Death gliders. Not lightning bolts, death gliders. Marduk laughed as his gliders attacked Tiamat. 

Daniel dropped to the ground, shielding his head as he knew that he would hear Tiamat’s death scream any second. When it came, he was ‘safe’, and out of the way of the scalding seawater. Marduk strode forward. The death gliders fired at her mouth, preventing her from uttering any sound, breathing any fire. He could see the pressure building up in her belly, until it finally spilled over and the dragon forced out a scream. 

Bolts from a death glider struck near Daniel’s position, blinding him as he huddled on the ground. Tiamat died, flames and ash pouring from holes in her flesh. Red, glowing blood lit the dark sky as it spilled across her swollen belly and over her dark flanks. Daniel covered his head with his arms as the ground heaved and bucked under him, telegraphing the extent of Tiamat’s death throes through his trembling frame. 

He tried to force himself to his feet. Perhaps this time he could stop Marduk before he killed the mystery woman. A scream from the side told him that he was too late. He dropped to his knees as the ground rolled beneath him. "No!" He cried, frustrated by his inability to protect her. 

Death gliders attacked. Their energy bolts struck the ground all around as Marduk unleashed his anger on the allies and minions of Omoroca. Daniel squinted into the carnage. Omoroca’s allies were Jaffa in the armour of half a dozen Goa’uld lords. Serpent, dog, even scorpion. Marduk methodically slaughtered the Jaffa and then moved to face the dead dragon’s carcass. 

"He cut her asunder." Daniel nodded. This was the part that haunted his thoughts. This was the true death of Omoroca… was it not? 

The death gliders pounded on the dragon’s corpse, blowing it apart. They stopped when the body exploded. Fire lit the sky like thousands of meteorites, and storm clouds billowed up. Natural lightning rippled across the burnt out husk of the dragon. Marduk climbed up the corpse until he reached the heavens and he smiled. 

Daniel scrambled to the woman’s side and tried to treat her terrible wounds. He touched her face and she looked up at him. "Who are you?" He yelled, trying to make himself heard above the gale. She opened her mouth to speak, forcing words past sharp, white teeth, but he could not hear her. He grimaced and pulled back. Marduk would return for him soon. 

He scrambled up and beheld the god Marduk standing over them. Marduk’s face twisted and he held up his hand. His eyes glowed a brilliant yellow. Daniel’s own hand came up… but too slowly. He screamed as the ribbon device tore him apart. 

\- - - - - 

<chapter five>

"And 

then you wake up?" Janet asked Daniel, scribbling down details on his medical chart. He hadn’t been with the program all that long, but Daniel knew that medical chart would probably make for some interesting reading. He blinked tiredly, trying to keep his thoughts on track. He’d awoken, yelling, with Jack holding his wrists. Good thing too, or his CO might now be sporting a black eye. Too shaken to protest, Daniel had allowed Jack to drag him out of bed, into clothes and off to the base. Jack had filled Fraiser in with everything he knew, He was now sitting, shivering, in the infirmary as Janet made free with her penlight and thermometer. 

"Yes." His head jerked up, pulling him out of his thoughts. "The, uh, dream seems to be changing every night." 

"I thought you said it was the same one?" The colonel grated out from the side. 

"Similar, Jack. The, um, story line remains intact. The basic integrity of the narrative is preserved… but it’s like I am seeing this through the eyes of someone who is… _was_ there. The, uh… the first rendition was very… very mythological… The, um, retelling of the Tiamat story as I’ve read it in the Enuma Elish. From then on, it’s gotten clearer. I’m seeing it more in a literal context. Marduk’s lightning bolts were actually death gliders. Tiamat’s creatures were Jaffa. Marduk used both a staff weapon and a hand device. It’s the image of him using the hand device on me that usually…" Daniel broke off, but drew his fists together and then out, opening his fingers, mimicking a small explosion. 

"Makes you scream?" Jack supplied helpfully. 

"Wakes me up." Daniel responded firmly. 

"Yeah." The colonel finished. 

Daniel wagged his index finger at Janet and Jack. "The one thing… no… two things that have so far not changed, well, to any, um, significant degree, are the images of the dying woman and the dragon." He slid off of the infirmary bed, ignoring Janet’s warning, and began to pace. He worried at his thumb with his teeth for a moment. 

"If the other parts of my dream have sharpened up, why not the dragon? I’m missing something here." 

"Daniel…" Jack started, only to be waved off. 

"No… there’s something." Janet and Jack exchanged pained glances. 

"Doctor Jackson, I’d like you to stay here tonight. I want to monitor your sleep, check your brain’s functions as you go through this dream cycle. If this is something that Nem’s device has done, I need more information before I can try to treat it." 

Daniel was still pacing. Janet took this as an invitation to add some more theories. "Doctor Jackson, you still have a fever. A high fever can result in very vivid dreams. We also don’t know what the full effect of the exposure to Nem’s device may be." She tilted her head and attempted a diagnosis. "Although this is really Doctor Mackenzie’s field, perhaps your conscious mind is simply trying to put a rational thought process on a mythological story." She made a brief note on her chart. Daniel was still pacing, barely listening. 

Janet looked first at Jack, then to Daniel. "Doctor Jackson, I’d like you to speak with Dr. Mackenzie in the morning." The anthropologist made to reply. 

"Daniel!" Jack said sharply. The scientist looked up in surprise. 

"What? Oh… yes, yes. Fine." He waved his hand at them, dismissing them. "Oh… I know…" 

Without a further word, he eased past a glowering Air Force colonel and all but ran back to his office. 

"Dammit." Jack swore softly at the empty corridor. 

\- - - - - 

From: Daniel <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

To: Emma <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 25 03:23 

Subject: New Theories 

Attachments: Enuma_Elish2.doc (64K), Enuma_Elish3.doc (74K) 

Hi Em, 

How are you doing? How’s the eye? Once again, I’m really sorry about that. I hope the bruises go away soon. 

I had the dream again. It’s getting more and more realistic, like the layers of symbolism are getting stripped away. It’s the strangest thing. I feel somehow like this story is very, very important to me. The hypnotist did more than bring my memories of reading the story to the surface. I feel almost like he’s tapped into a sort of… memory of Omoroca. It’s like… Oh God! It’s got to be the genetic memory! Wow… 

I’ve included a few more versions/translations of the creation myth for you. I can’t believe some of the divergent translations that they’ve come up with. I wonder if they are even using the same source on these. Maybe I can get a copy of the original version, translate it myself. 

How are you coming with your theory? 

Thanks for the soup. I was really happy you came by. Jack liked the soup as well. Send more cookies soon. 

D. 

  

From: Emma C. <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

To: Daniel J. <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 25 08:44 

Subject: Re: New Theories 

Attachments: Santorini.doc (325K) 

  

Daniel, 

What the *hell* are you doing?!?!?! I left forty-two cookies with you *yesterday*! Forty-two! Are you trying to kill yourself? Okay… I have to go soon so I don’t have time to work myself into a full apoplectic, vein popping, stroke-inducing rant here, but I want you to go get Jack to yell at you for something, anything, and you’re going to listen contritely as your penance or so help me I will kick your coffee addicted backside halfway to Hammurabi the very next time I see you. 

God. I’m reading too many Babylonian myths. You see what you’ve done to an otherwise sterling scientific career. 

My eye is healing. I told everyone at work that I got involved in a barroom brawl. I don’t know whether to be relieved or disconcerted that no one questioned it. Here’s my new sig for the nonce… (@.o) You don’t even have to cock your head to read that one. How about that? I hope your death flu is better. Don’t work yourself too hard. 

Charlie, I have to admit, this genetic memory thing is creeping me out. I know I’m just a stodgy dirt doctor here, but what you’re talking about is right out of the afternoon talk shows. Maybe go easy on the UFO explanations until you can rule out the more mundane. What did Jack have to say about this? 

As for Babylon… I’m including what I have. The only problem is that the timelines don’t match very well. You’re the social ‘scientist’ (hah!) you figure it out. It’s all in the Santorini.doc file attached to this email. The timeline for what I’m sending you is pretty fixed. Dendrochronology (counting tree-rings) and ice-core samples have locked in the date around 1630 BC. This is outside the range given for the creation of the Enuma Elish (which is usually credited around 2000 BC, right?), but Berosus (your main source for all things Omoroca) was writing in the third century BC. Maybe he got some dates wrong. I have to admit, Charlie, this thing is a real mish-mash of timelines, characters, names and stories. The stories can’t even agree on whether Tiamat was a dragon, serpent, body of water or a woman (with udders???). Anyway, if it wasn’t Santorini, no reason it couldn’t have been a small scale, local version of Santorini. 

Go with that and let me know if that clarifies the dragon aspect for you. 

No more cookies! 

xo. Emma 

  

From: Daniel <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

To: Emma <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 25 08:55 

Subject: Cookies 

Em, 

Thanks for the file. Jack’s called me up for a meeting, so I’m printing it out and I’ll read it on the way. 

As for the cookies, I brought them in to work. Jack found them and ‘shared’ them with everyone here. I swear I had only a dozen… maybe eighteen. 

Send more cookies! 

D. 

  

From: Emma C. <dirt_digger@hotmail.com>

To: Daniel J. <culture_boy@hotmail.com>

Date: Feb. 25 09:10 

Subject: Re: Cookies 

NO! 

xo. (@.o) 

\- - - - - 

"Excuse me, excuse me." Daniel jogged through the hallways, skittering around military personnel. Jack and Janet had some more questions for him about Nem’s device. He told Jack he’d be there in five minutes, but the printer paper had jammed and he was now on ten minutes. He left the office, not bothering to pick up the phone as it rang. Jack was going to be steamed. 

He clattered into the infirmary, juggling his armful of paper. He had not quite been telling the truth to Emma earlier. He managed to hide two cookies before Jack had stolen his stash. One was now in his mouth, held between his teeth, the other in his fingers. 

"Forry, forry…" He muttered through the cookie as he spied the colonel and the doctor. Janet frowned in the direction of the cookie in his teeth. Using his free hand, he shoved the treat all the way into his mouth, chewing quickly before she could object. He made an inarticulate sound of surprise as Jack plucked the other cookie from his unsuspecting fingers and put it in his own mouth. "Chak! M’rast wun!" He mumbled. 

A hard look from both military personnel was the only response he got. He sighed dramatically and wiped the crumbs from his lips. "So, what did you need?" 

Janet looked at the colonel, but he was still thoughtfully chewing on his cookie. She decided to take the lead. "Daniel, your brain chemistry is all over the place. I really think that whatever Nem did to you had really affected your mind. I…" 

Daniel wagged a finger at her. "I agree, uh, Janet. You know, I’ve been looking in to that. Nem told me that the memories of my race were within me, beneath the surface." He shuffled documents. "Where was that article?" He almost dropped a folder full of papers, only to grab it back at the last minute. He flipped through the pages. "I think Nem’s device did more than joggle loose memories from my university days. I think it unlocked my…" He looked up at the skeptical duo, gesturing vaguely. "My genetic memory." He looked down at the papers in his hands, and then back at Jack, over the rims of his glasses. "You can see where this is going." 

Jack continued chewing thoughtfully, quelling any sharp looked first at the colonel and then at the civilian. "Daniel, the… study of genetic memory is…" 

"Amateurish and, uh, undeveloped at best, yes, I know. Most of the information on the internet seems to be of the calibre one would expect of information found on the, um, internet. Believe me. I just spent the last three hours trying to find a source that didn’t involve free trial offers or a four-day seminar with a self-professed guru." He shuffled through papers. "But none of these people have access to a memory enhancement device created on an alien planet by a seemingly immortal half-fish, half-man with ties to ancient Babylon… do they?" 

"Daniel." Jack stepped in, trying to bring Daniel back to a less frenetic pace. He spread his hands wide. "Okay… let’s say maybe Nem’s device has… jumpstarted your memory." He ducked his head and gave a little cough, again, biting back hasty words. "What do we do?" He looked at Janet. 

The doctor gave a little sideways shake of her head. "I can’t really tell. I’ll need a full examination to establish a baseline before I can even begin to evaluate how Doctor Jackson’s brain chemistry might have been altered. If I can get a clear picture of how his brain is behaving now, I can compare it to some of our earlier scans." 

"Okay. Daniel. Whaddya say? How ‘bout you let Doc Fraiser check you out?" He paused, cocking his head at the unresponsive archaeologist engrossed in his papers. "Daniel?" He took a step forward, worry leaving a frown on his features. "Daniel?" 

The linguist’s eyes were wide, fixed on the paper in his grasp. Jack stepped up beside him and scanned his eyes over the document. "Whatcha got, Danny?" 

Daniel ignored the nickname, waving the paper absently. "It’s the Santorini volcano, Jack. The, uh… the timeline is all wrong, but the effects. Oh. That’s right. It could have… that makes sense. I’ll bet…" 

Jack made an exasperated noise. "What, Daniel? What?" He barely caught Daniel as the younger man’s head jerked up and his body convulsed once before dropping bonelessly into Jack’s arms. "Doc!" The colonel bellowed as Daniel’s papers slipped to the floor and the man himself went terrifyingly limp. 

Jack dropped to his knees, cradling Daniel against his chest. The archaeologist’s head rested in the hollow of Jack’s shoulder. Only Jack’s arms around his torso kept Daniel from slipping right to the floor. 

"Get him up on the bed." Janet said, tilting Daniel’s head back to try to feel for a pulse. 

Jack grunted as he hauled Daniel up to the bed, wincing at the dead weight. _Don’t even think that!_ He manhandled the unconscious man backward on to the bed and held him in place while Janet struggled to get Daniel’s legs up. "What just happened here, Janet?" 

The doctor shook her head. "It looked almost like a seizure of some sort. Colonel, it might help to know what Daniel was reading. Why don’t you gather up his papers and try to make some sense of them?" 

"And get out of your way." The colonel finished. Janet pursed her lips, but didn’t bother to deny it. Jack bent and gathered up all the scattered sheets. He shook his head. Trying to determine what Daniel was thinking was a challenge on a good day. With a sigh, he looked at the first pages. _‘Santorini’, huh? This should be… interesting._

\- - - - - 

Santorini.doc 

I took a look at the metaphors you gave me, and broke them down into broad categories, cross-referencing them with the mythical imagery of the Tiamat/Omoroca legend. 

> > 1\. Tiamat the dragon… references to the dragon are numerous but definitive descriptions are few. 
>> 
>> 2\. Marduk used half of Tiamat’s body to create the heavens, half to create the earth. 
>> 
>> 3\. Tiamat in her various representations is considered a goddess of the deep and a manifestation of chaos. She can be considered an elemental force, something used in mythical metaphor to explain a force of nature. 
>> 
>> 4\. Tiamat, during her battle with Marduk, has the force of the four winds pushed down her throat, whereupon, she inflates and is defeated by Marduk. 
>> 
>> 5\. As Tiamat was dismembered, her eyes created the Tigris and Euphrates rivers and her aspect of godhood was carried away by the wind. 
>> 
>> 6\. At least one of the versions of the creation myth describes Tiamat as a 300 mile long serpent, who moved in undulations of 6 miles long. Very large dragon. 

Look at these again, but strip away the mythological aspect of the readings. 

> > 1\. Unknown event. 
>> 
>> 2\. Significant geomorphological and climatic effects. 
>> 
>> 3\. Destructive effects. 
>> 
>> 4\. Strange weather systems. 
>> 
>> 5\. Creation of new landforms or modification of existing humid cycles. 
>> 
>> 6\. Massive scale. 

I think your answer here is a volcano. The closest I can come to a large-scale event that might account for this is the Santorini eruption that was responsible for the destruction of the Minoan civilisation and one of the origins of the Atlantis legend. 

The Santorini eruption has a VEI (Volcanic Explosivity Index) of 6. Krakatoa also had a six. Tambora was the only volcano to rate a seven, I believe. Very destructive, very explosive volcano. This is a result of the caldera collapse. Often with these caldera volcanoes, the central pipe collapses, blocking off the main flow of lava and gases. The pressure builds up and the entire mountain blows out. Think of the Mount St. Helens eruption. This was many times the force of that eruption. The entire side of the mountain bulged outward prior to the explosion. 

Ash from the eruption was found all through the Eastern Mediterranean. Again, remember St. Helens? The ash clouds travelled hundred of kilometres and affected weather patterns around the world. The debris deposits near Santorini were estimated to be around 50m thick. Some researchers claim that climate change would have been dramatic, reaching into northern Europe. 

As is typical of the magma/gas types of composite volcanoes, the eruption was explosive, sending up large lava bombs as well as the gases. This may account for some of your stars and celestial events in the myths. 

Volcanoes also often create their own pressure systems, resulting in violent thunderstorms. Perhaps Marduk’s lightning bolts are simply a by-product of the eruption. The winds may also result. 

Retell the myth from a strictly scientific point of view and you get: 

Tiamat was a large volcano centred in a water body. Pressure began to build, possibly resulting in some small scale eruptions. The pressure got to critical levels. The side of the mountain began to bulge outward. The mountain blew, causing massive shifts in climatic patterns, severe storms, black rains and even fireballs. I don’t see much evidence of _nue ardente_ (toxic gas flows) such as the sort that killed the population of Martinique, but that may give you a cause of the death for Omoroca’s creatures. 

After the eruption, the heavens would be altered: colder weather, loss of crops, cloud and ash layers in the upper atmosphere, altered colours of sunsets and sunrises. This celestial alteration may be the basis of the heavenly creation myth, or we may simply be looking at the period after which the ash clouds settled and the stars revealed themselves again. 

The landscape of a post-volcanic environment would be greatly altered from pre-volcanic landscapes, hence the creation of the earth and mountains point. In fact the Enuma Elish says that Marduk established new stations for the other gods. Volcanic (magmatic soils) can be very fertile and are often settled soon after the eruptions cease. 

As I said earlier, Santorini’s main explosion occurs after the creation of the Enuma Elish tablets… probably. Still, the Santorini volcano has a long history of eruptions and the various tellings of the creation myth seem to be cobbled together from a number of sources. It’s well within the realm of possibility that the original story used a smaller scale eruption, possibly of Santorini, brought to Babylon and told in a local context. This could have been further fleshed out by later retellings post-Santorini. 

\- - - - - 

Still in the infirmary, using a hospital table for a desk, Jack shuffled through Daniel’s papers, putting aside the Santorini notes. The rest of it was pictures, geological surveys, observations and diagrams. All gibberish to him, but this was what Daniel had been reading when he collapsed. He sighed, pulling out a ten-page document on genetic memory and another booklet on Babylonian myths. 

Perhaps the mysterious author of the Santorini document could help shed some light on this. Jack tapped a finger on the document thoughtfully. If they could find out who he was. Daniel left nothing to indicate to whom he was speaking. Jack made a mental note to read Daniel’s email later. 

"Sir?" Jack looked around and spied Carter standing in the doorway of the infirmary. He waved her in. She came up to him and cocked her head, reading the documents. "How is he?" She asked softly, looking at the too still figure of Daniel on the infirmary bed. 

"No change since he collapsed. Janet says his brain activity is erratic. She has no idea what's causing it." Jack said, his tone clipped with frustration. 

Carter took the hint. "Is this what Daniel was working on?" 

Jack nodded and looked at the archaeologist, unconscious on the bed. Teal’c sat at Daniel’s side, guarding his sleep. "Yeah." He handed the pile of documents to his second in command. "Tell me what you think." He’d called her after he started reading through Daniel’s papers. 

Carter took the papers and flipped through them. "You said that he mentioned something about genetic memory." 

"Yeah." 

"Does Daniel Jackson believe he is possessed by a Goa'uld?" 

"No, Teal'c. Daniel thinks he's remembering a previous life." Carter answered the Jaffa. She frowned, considering her own words. "Well, actually, it sounds like he is remembering something in his family tree. Not his life, per se, but the life of one of his distant ancestors." She shook her head. Wormhole physics was an easier topic to wrap her mind around. This was a little… out there. 

"This is all because of that damn creature from the black lagoon and his… mind-sucker." 

"Sir, the ability to access one's own genetic memory is just speculation. There is very little scientific basis for any genetic memory in human beings." 

"Well, Carter, if Shirley MacLaine can access past lives, who's to say it's _not_ genetic memory? Besides, Daniel believes it, and right now it's the only lead we have." 

Jack got up and walked over to the sleeping figure. His hand dropped to Daniel’s forehead. "Come on, Daniel. What’s going on in that over-developed brain of yours?" 

\- - - - - 

The great vizier, Myomis, strode through the halls of the great palace of Oannes, named for the race of beings inhabiting its walls. They walked among the humans by day, and by night returned to the solitude of the great waters. 

His eyes rose to the great mountain above the fortress. The crater of the great volcano smoked with ominous promise. Now and again, small tremors rumbled under his feet. The shaking was not strong enough to disturb his steps, rather like the passing of a large caravan. Still, the muttering of the great mountain was growing louder, her sleep more restless. Soon, very soon, they would have to abandon this fortress and find another. 

He spied an ornate wall, covered in detailed frescoes and tile. His breath drew in, as it always did, at the marvellous work of art. It was a depiction of his mother in her aspect of the great and unknowable deep, the chaos of the wide sea. The dozen shades of blue graded into abstract patterns and swirls so intricate that it made one’s eyes hurt to view it long. It filled him with a profound sense of purpose. 

Today, though, he was too busy to gaze long upon the artwork. He had news of great import for his parents, words that they would be loath to hear. His siblings, the treacherous band, had formed alliances with their most ancient of enemies. 

He strode into the hall and found Apsu, his father. The tall, blue skinned man called to him as he strode toward his son, speaking harshly through his misshapen mouth. "Come, my good son. Let us find your mother." 

Together they entered deep within the mountain to find Omoroca in the place of her power, resplendent upon her throne. He bowed to his mother, she of raven hair and sapphire eyes. His own face was moulded in her image. He had the tall carriage of his father, but his mother’s sharp eyes and fine features. Omoroca’s beauty could outshine even that of the most pleasing human women. Myomis, like his mother, turned many heads. 

They spoke for a brief time of Myomis’s siblings, his brothers and sisters who passed their time among the humans of this world. Apsu spoke against them, in his harsh way. "They have been the cause of much strife. They have fallen to the ways of our enemy, the Goa’uld. We must destroy them, and regain a measure of peace." 

Omoroca, the splendid queen, stood and paced her great hall. She tore at her rich clothing and cried to the heavens. She did not wish for her children to die, for with them would die all the promise of her blood. They had come to this land to save the people, and instead, her rash children had become all that she despised. Still, she could not let them simply be condemned. "We cannot destroy what we have created. They may be troublesome, but let us wait and hope." Omoroca pleaded with her husband and son. 

Myomis shook his head. "Father, stay not your hand. Cast them down and you will again have peace by day, and rest by night." 

Apsu leaned forward and placed his clawed hands on either side of his proud child’s face. While Omoroca wept, they spoke at great lengths of dark and dire things. None of the three beheld the slim figure of Ea as he watched, hidden in the shadows. Soon, the nephew of Myomis slipped into the gloom and ran to warn his errant siblings. 

In the still of night, Ea returned. Vengeance weighed heavily upon his mind. He called to the water, bending it to his will. He cast down his grandfather, great Apsu. The mighty king was lost in the waves, and Ea rejoiced. 

With one enemy vanquished, Ea strode with purpose to the chambers of his uncle, Myomis. Once there, he summoned his guards and had the traitorous man imprisoned deep within the walls of the fortress. Myomis cried out in anger and rage as the heavy chains closed about his wrists. He fought and cursed until despair dragged him to the ground and clutched him tight against her bony breast. 

\- - - - - 

<chapter six>

"Nnnrrgh

." Daniel hitched in his bed, twitching from side to side. Instantly, Sam and Jack were on their feet, skidding to his bedside. Teal’c stood by the head of the bed. 

"Daniel. Hey, come on. Look at us here." Jack ducked down, eye level with Daniel. 

The archaeologist coughed and dragged himself back to consciousness. Jack gave him a tight smile and sat back. Daniel looked around at Teal’c and Sam hovering over him. 

"Hey." He croaked. 

Sam smoothed his hair back away from his face. "Hey, yourself. How are you doing?" 

Daniel’s eyebrows lifted and he gave the question some thought. "It was amazing, Sam." He got to his elbows and started to shimmy backwards, making Fraiser’s machines squawk in protest. The doctor herself entered the room at a trot with one of the nurses hot on her heels. She slowed as she spied Daniel awake and alert. 

"Oh, yeah, yeah…. Looked like a barrel of monkeys." O’Neill said dryly. 

"No… no, Jack. I saw Apsu and Omoroca. I- I- I was Myomis!" Daniel’s fingers spread, tapping his chest. 

Jack and Sam exchanged glances. "Uh… Myomis?" 

"Yeah!" Daniel’s eyes were shining with excitement. Janet made frustrated noises as she tried to keep him still and keep all the various lines, tubes and needles in place. "Well… I was surprised that it was Myomis… It’s really only some obscure Catholic encyclopaedia that actually refer to him… me… Myomis as, well, Myomis." 

He twisted to look at the Colonel. "Jack! I saw him! I saw Nem… he was- he was Apsu. He’s my…" His speech started to slow and he shook his head. "My father and…" Daniel frowned and touched his hand to his forehead, pausing in his speech. Fraiser’s sharp eyes did not miss the gesture. 

"Doctor Jackson, your blood pressure is far too high and your fever is going up again." Daniel waved her off absently, trying to marshal his thoughts. Janet craned her neck and looked at the displays. "Doctor Jackson, I’m serious. I need you to relax here, or I will have to sedate you." 

This made Jack’s head jerk up and he frowned deeply. He squinted at the monitors, but they made as much sense to him as Daniel’s precious squiggles. 

"No." Daniel’s voice was softer now, but no less insistent. "No. This is important." He put his hand up, effectively shushing them. "I know this. Unh!" He made a frustrated noise and clenched his fist. "I just need a little more. Just a little more. Ah!" This time, the noise was pain, not frustration and Daniel pressed his fists to his temples. 

"Daniel Jackson." Teal’c’s large hand touched the man’s shoulder. "Your answers appear to be found in your dreams. It would be prudent at this time to rest, and contemplate this issue. No further progress can be made if you overtax your mind." He guided Daniel back against the cushions. 

Jack looked sideways in time to see Doctor Fraiser empty a syringe into Daniel’s IV line. He grimaced, but nodded. 

Daniel settled back grudgingly. "No, I have to know." The archaeologist pleaded, too late to stop the numbing sedatives flowing through his veins. His head lolled back against the pillows and his eyes closed. As he dropped off, he murmured, "What fate Omoroca?" 

\- - - - - 

Jack sat back in his chair at the briefing table and contemplated the painted wood. General Hammond, Sam and Teal’c were at their places around the table. They silently waited the arrival of Doctor Fraiser. 

With a clicking of heels, the doctor entered the room. "I apologise for the delay. I needed to finish some last checks on Doctor Jackson." 

Hammond nodded. "Understood, Doctor. Please, have a seat." Janet slipped into one of the high-backed leather chairs. "Now, Doctor, what can you tell us?" 

Janet drew a breath and gave her head a sharp shake. "Well, sir, I have to say that this is unlike anything we’ve had to deal with so far." She flipped open Daniel’s file. "Basically, Daniel’s serotonin levels are out of balance." She held up a hand to forestall O’Neill’s outburst. "As far as I can tell, it’s _not_ the result of any foreign substance being introduced into his system. It’s all naturally created. The serotonin levels are influenced, in part, by proper sleep." 

"You mean he just needs a good night’s sleep?" 

"Well, Colonel, it’s a little more complicated than that. His brain is, essentially, locked on over-drive." 

Jack grimaced, but it was Hammond that asked the next question. "What’s the long term prognosis, Doctor?" 

Janet shook her head. "I can’t say, sir. He is having intense dreams, nightmares, but he isn’t reaching a true REM dream state. It’s as if he’s being subjected to an extreme flashback, not dreaming at all. He may be sleeping, but he’s not resting." 

Sam sat up straighter. "The human body can’t function without some sort of REM-state rest.." 

Janet nodded reluctantly. "That’s true. Doctor Jackson operates naturally with only minimal rest, his system may be able to cope with this better in the short term, but long term, this will have severe effects. He will likely become irritated, absent-minded, distracted and difficult to reason with." 

"So.. no change." Jack muttered with a grin that vanished as quick as it appeared. Ill-timed humour was his defence in difficult times. 

"That’s just the start, sir." Janet supplied helpfully. "Continued interruptions in the sleep cycle can result in depression, and anger. Some animal studies suggest an impact on the immune system and the inability to fight off disease. These dreams may also be causing a dissociative state. You heard him in the infirmary. He referred to himself as this… Myomis and the alien Nem as his father." 

"What is the nature of these… ‘flashbacks’?" The General asked. 

Jack stepped in. "Well, he’d been having dreams that he says may have been some sort of… genetic memory." He leaned back in his chair, combing his fingers through his hair with one hand. 

"Sirs, we looked at Daniel’s papers. I’m going to need a little more time to figure out the mythological elements of Daniel’s research, but the gist of it is that Daniel believes that Nem’s device has put him in touch with the memories of someone close to Nem and possibly Omoroca at the time of Omoroca’s death at the hands of the Goa’uld Belus. Daniel believes that he is seeing the events as they unfolded over four thousand years ago." 

Hammond shook his head. "How we deal with, or even begin to treat something like that?" 

Janet looked at the assembled members of SG1 and spoke up, somewhat hesitantly. "Sir, I’d like to have Doctor Mackenzie’s assistance with this. There may be a course of treatment that could help stabilise Daniel’s serotonin levels. Perhaps hypnotism, such as was used on Captain Carter, could help fight the effects of Nem’s machine." 

"You mentioned that Doctor Jackson was not sleeping well. Could you administer something to assist with this?" 

Janet made a little face and tilted her head, before giving it a sharp shake. "I wouldn’t recommend it, sir. Sleeping pills often interfere with REM sleep. That’s why they are not recommended for long-term usage." 

"Perhaps the being called Nem may be able to give us guidance in this matter." Teal’c spoke up. 

Hammond sighed. "Alright. Captain Carter, I want you to tell me what you can of these Babylonian myths. Report back in one hour with anything you have. As for Oannes, I want SG1 ready to go at 0800 tomorrow morning. Understood?" 

"Sir!" Came the prompt reply. 

\- - - - - 

Sam groaned and leaned back in her chair. "I can’t believe this stuff! How does Daniel find anything in this maze?" 

Teal’c lifted an eyebrow. "What is the problem, Captain Carter?" 

"Well… alright, this is really Daniel’s forte, not mine, but according to Daniel’s notes, the Omoroca character was also known as Tiamat. Now, I’m trying to find information about her and look… she’s also known as Tiamut, Tavthe, Tehôm… um… Thavatth, Tauthe, Tiawath… here’s Tiwawat, Tamtu, and then Thalatth… Good God, can’t these people just name something and stick with it?" She sighed. "Do you know anything about these Goa’uld?" 

"No, I do not." Came Teal’c’s succinct reply. At Sam’s raised eyebrow, he continued, holding up another paper. "It appears as though Apsu, who was also known as Apason, Absu, Abzu, Apzu…" 

"I got it, Teal’c." 

"Indeed. Apsu was the being we encountered by the name of Nem. In the story of Tiamat’s death, they claim that Apsu was betrayed by the god Ea, who was also known as Aa, Ae, Aos, Enki…" 

"Still got it, Teal’c." 

"Indeed. Ea was the grandson of Tiamat and Apsu. This appears to mean that he was one of the beings known as Oannes." 

"So where does Myomis fit in?" 

"It was difficult to find the correct information. Myomis is not a particularly common translation of the name. Moumis and Momis," He enunciated carefully to differentiate the names, "Were also used, but the most common form of the being’s name was Mummu." 

"Mummu?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, the Colonel will love that. Wait… I’ve seen that name." 

"In reading the translations of the Enuma Elish, it appears as though Myomis was the first born son of Apsu and Tiamat… or as we know them, Nem and Omoroca." 

"So Daniel thinks he’s Nem’s son?" 

"Daniel Jackson appears to believe he has the _memories_ of Nem’s son." 

"What happened to Myomis in the story?" 

"He was betrayed by the Goa’uld Ea and imprisoned. Nothing more is said of his fate." 

"And you know nothing about these Goa’uld?" 

"Captain Carter, the Tau’ri Stargate was buried not long after the time of Omoroca. The name ‘Marduk’ is known to me, but none of the other Goa’uld have left their mark upon history." 

"Well, it looks like Marduk, or Belus was the head honcho." Teal’c cocked his head at Carter’s phrasing. "Uh… main deity in the pantheon." She checked her watch. "Alright. General Hammond is expecting his briefing in ten minutes. Let’s hope this makes some sense to him." 

Teal’c responded with a simple nod of his head. 

\- - - - - 

"This is certainly an interesting story." The General shook his head. Sam had managed to cobble together a rough lineage of important Babylonian deities. Daniel’s notes had helped point them in the right direction to the important players. 

"So, let me see if I got this." Said the Colonel. "Nem is… Apsu." He painstakingly formed the unfamiliar name. "Omoroca is Tiamat. Daniel is…" He snickered softly. "Mummu." 

"He prefers ‘Myomis’, sir." Carter interrupted. 

"Yeah… wonder why? Anyway… Myomis is Apsu and Tiamat’s son. He was imprisoned by Ea… his nephew. That right? Anyone else I should know about?" 

"Belus." Teal’c spoke, his deep voice lending drama to the word. 

"Belus?" 

"It was Belus who slew Omoroca." 

"He was persuaded by the other gods, the Goa’uld, to kill Tiamat." 

"Why?" 

"Well, according to the Enuma Elish story, he was granted the position of, sort of a, well… head god." Carter shrugged. 

"And Belus is…?" O’Neill braced himself for more convolutions in the story. 

"Belus is the Goa’uld also known as Marduk." 

"And Teal’c knows Marduk." Carter put in. 

"Indeed. He was mentioned by Kendra on the world known as Cimmeria." The Jaffa nodded his head as he spoke. 

Jack grinned, a sharp smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Thor’s Hammer. Great. Charming family our Daniel’s found for himself." 

"There’s more, sir. Marduk was the son of Ea, Nem’s great-grandson." 

"This is worse than Shakespeare!" The Colonel tossed the papers on the briefing table. 

"Captain, if I understand the briefing you just gave, Omoroca was killed by Belus over four thousand years ago. Doctor Jackson said so himself. Why would these memories be surfacing if Doctor Jackson already knows the answer to his question?" 

"Perhaps Daniel Jackson’s earlier answers were wrong." 

"Care to explain that, Teal’c?" 

"It is simple, O’Neill. Daniel Jackson spoke the words ‘What fate Omoroca’. It appears that, at least in his mind, Omoroca’s true fate may yet be in question." 

"That might be it, Teal’c. If he runs this dream sequence through, then perhaps he’ll somehow pull himself out of these memories." 

"It’s possible, Captain." Janet shook her head. "But to be honest, it looks more like he’s getting lost in them." 

No one really wanted to contemplate that for long. "Colonel, have you managed to contact the author of this ‘Santorini’ paper?" The General brought up another option. 

Jack grimaced. "Daniel was using a free email provider, where he goes by the handle of ‘Culture Boy’." Sam hid her grin while ducking her head. Teal’c merely lifted an eyebrow. "It took me a little while to figure out where it was. The Santorini paper was the only document in his in-basket. Those free email services have pretty limited storage capacities, so I’m guessing he deleted any prior emails. The paper was from one ‘Doctor Emma Collier’, also known as ‘Dirt Digger’. I used Daniel’s account and emailed her, but all I got back was an automated message saying that she was out of the office until tomorrow." 

Hammond gave the matter some quick thought. "If we need to, we can look up some information on this Doctor Collier. Perhaps we can find a home or work number. Right now, let’s concentrate on what we do know and determine how best to help Doctor Jackson." 

\- - - - - 

Myomis pulled at his chains until his wrists were raw and bleeding, cursing his nephew and his traitorous kind. They had devoted their lives to the destruction of the Goa’uld, and now the beasts had won. 

He looked up at the sound of the prison doors opening. Myomis shook his head, keeping his long, black hair out of his blue eyes. Hissing through sharp white teeth, he cursed, as Ea opened the door and entered the cell. 

"Uncle." The younger Oannes said. His blue skin acted as an effective camouflage, hiding him in the shadows. 

"Ea." Myomis spat. "What have you done?" 

Myomis stood up straight as Ea’s eyes glowed an unholy yellow. He was pushed back against the stone wall as his nephew’s taloned hand found his throat, digging in to the lightly scaled skin. 

"What have _I_ done, oh blessed uncle?" Ea’s breath rasped. Like Apsu, Ea had a stocky body, and fish-like features. His wide mouth sometimes distorted his speech. "I have saved this family from the machinations of our traitorous elders." 

"It is you and the younger ones who are traitors. We eldest know this and remember!" 

"Silence!" Myomis’s head bounced off of the stone wall as Ea slammed him backwards. The older being flushed a dark blue with anger. Ea continued. "Do you know what the humans of this world call me? I am a God… the God of Wisdom. They believe that I know everything." 

"And you believe them?" Myomis said scornfully. "We are here to teach them. I am surprised that you are now taking your guidance from them instead." 

"Still your words, Uncle, else I shall be forced to teach _you_ a painful lesson." 

"Foolish child." Myomis could not contain his anger. "You have doomed your family and you have doomed these humans. They will be nothing more than slaves for your foul passenger. You have debased our name and shattered our pledge to the people of this world." 

Ea gave an incoherent roar and held up a hand. Myomis grimaced as a brilliant yellow light flared up and struck his forehead. "I am a God!" Ea rasped, sharp scales flaring dramatically. "From me and those like me will come the history of this world." Myomis cried out softly, slumping in his chains as Ea placed the hand device directly against his skin. Ea grinned, showing rows of shark-like teeth. Myomis convulsed and then went still, blue blood spilling from his nose and eyes. 

Ea withdrew the hand device and tilted back his unconscious uncle’s face. He leaned in close and whispered, "And I shall be sure, dear Uncle, that our world and our history shall know nothing of you save for your betrayal of your family." He released Myomis, allowing the captive’s head to drop to his chest. 

\- - - - - 

<chapter seven>

The members of SG1 rested fitfully, keeping vigil on their archaeologist. Any thoughts of returning to Oannes had been put on hold, pending changes in Daniel’s condition. Fraiser wasn’t willing to give him a go for gate travel, and the other members of the team were not willing to leave him until he had stabilized.

"Hunh!" Daniel’s body convulsed in the infirmary bed, hands thrown out at his sides. 

Janet raced for her machines, punching buttons and reading the wildly spiking lines. 

Jack threw himself across Daniel’s chest, trying to stop the man from hurting himself. "Janet?" 

Before the doctor could respond, Jack found himself airborne, pushed away by Daniel. He stumbled backwards and crashed into another hospital bed, losing his footing and sitting down abruptly. Sam stumbled backward, clutching a shoulder, and then Daniel was sitting up. He roared at them in some unknown language as he tried to free himself from the grip of the medical devices. 

"Daniel!" Jack barked as he painfully found his feet. "Daniel, snap out of it." 

Janet winced as Daniel tugged the IV right out of his arm and blood began to trickle down his pale flesh. In two shaky steps, he was out of the bed and up against the wall, his hands out before him, warding off the others. The man was still barking strange statements to his friends and co-workers but quick glances revealed that nobody understood what he was talking about. 

Sam’s head jerked up as she made out the world ‘Goa’uld’ in a particularly ominous growl and realisation dawned. She shook her head, and made slashing motions with her hands. "No… Goa’uld, no!" 

Daniel stopped yelling and frowned. He shook his head, flipping his long hair out of his eyes. He pointed at Sam. "Goa’uld!" 

Sam’s head swung from side to side, exaggerated as much as she was able, hoping he would understand the body-language of the negative even if he did not understand the word. "No. No… Goa’uld, no!" She pointed, hoping this word would sink through. "Tau’ri." Hopefully, the word had been known to the Oannes of Babylon. 

Daniel’s frown grew deeper and he bared his teeth, making a little hissing noise through them. "Tau’ri?" 

Carter smiled, nodding. "Tau’ri." She waved to everyone gathered. "Tau’ri. No Goa’uld." She pointed to herself. "Samantha." Daniel’s head lifted. He pondered the word. Sam repeated it, pointing at her chest. "Samantha." She pointed at O’Neill. "Jack." Daniel’s eyes narrowed. He was beginning to understand this. Sam motioned for Doctor Fraiser to come forward. "Janet." Sam bit her lip, worried. This would be the hard one. She pointed to Daniel’s side, out of his direct field of vision. "Teal’c." 

Daniel turned and went rigid, anger and fear evident on his face. "Jaffa!" 

"Sholva." The large man said evenly. 

Daniel tilted his head, looking sidelong at the Jaffa. One could almost see his mind working frantically. "Jaffa sholva?" 

Teal’c spoke a few more words in his native language. Daniel frowned. This was evidently not a language he understood well, but he obviously got the gist of it. He nodded. 

"He understands Goa’uld." Carter whispered, amending her words in an instant. "Uh, well… he understands _some_ Goa’uld." 

"Of course he does." Jack grated. "That’s Daniel." 

Carter grimaced. "Sir…" 

She was stopped as Daniel turned back to her. He pointed in her direction and spoke. "Samantha." His pronunciation was heavily accented, but the name was recognisable. Carter nodded and smiled. He pointed to the Colonel and then the doctor. "Jack. Janet." He turned. "Teal’c." 

When it was obvious that he’d gotten the names right, he nodded and a small smile curled up the corner of his mouth. He pointed his finger to his chest. 

"Myomis." 

"Carter." O’Neill’s voice was soft, trying not to startle Daniel… Myomis. "Carter, get somebody down to the Linguistics lab. See if anyone there can speak…" He waved his hand. "Babylonian…?" Janet motioned for one of the nurses to make the call to the linguistics staff. 

Myomis turned to look at O’Neill, perhaps recognising the last word. Jack frowned. Despite the face and body, the whole stance of the man was completely different. He had to look hard to see anything of Daniel. Myomis stood tall, his shoulders back. He met everyone’s gaze evenly, no shirking, no looking other places, no looking down. He may be dressed in hospital scrubs in a strange location and surrounded by potentially hostile people, but he was every inch in control. 

Carter nodded at Jack’s suggestion. "It’s Akkadian, sir." 

"What?" O’Neill’s eyebrows went up. "Like the French-Canadians?" 

"Uh… those were Acadians, sir… with a ‘c’. Myomis is Akkadian… two ‘k’s." 

"So, French won’t cut it." 

Carter allowed herself a small smile and shook her head. "No, sir." 

Myomis tilted his head, looking at Carter. Janet stepped up. "Sam, he seems to trust you. Can you get him to sit down on the bed? I need to monitor his blood pressure." 

Carter shrugged. "I think trust is fairly relative at this point. Let’s see." She walked around Myomis. The man’s bright eyes followed her every movement, but he did not move. "Myomis." Sam said his name softly. 

"Samantha." He spoke equally softly. His voice was deeper than Daniel’s normal tones. 

She patted the bed. "Come. Sit." He frowned. She waved her hand, gesturing for him to join her. "Come." 

"Come." He repeated her gesture. 

Sam smiled. "No. You come. Myomis, come." 

Myomis’s eyebrow lifted. "Myomis…" He pointed to his chest and then started walking toward Carter. "Come?" 

Sam’s answering smile was bright. "Right!" 

Jack shifted. "Oh, don’t get so happy, Carter." He muttered. "Am I the only one worried about Daniel?" 

Carter looked reproachfully at him. "Colonel, this is Daniel… just… Well, sir, nothing like this has ever happened before." She turned back to Daniel. "Myomis. Sit." 

"Come on, Daniel… you know us. You understand this. Come, sit, heel… stay." Jack muttered. He caught Myomis’s quick look in his direction before the man turned back to Sam. 

Sam pulled herself up on the bunk. It was raised up, so she had to give a little hop. Myomis cocked his head as Sam patted the mattress next to her. "Come, Myomis. Sit." 

Myomis came and stood before Sam. She slid off the bunk, meaning to show him ‘sit’ again. As she went to jump up, Myomis’s hands circled her waist, and he lifted her up onto the bed. Sam’s smile disappeared, replaced with uncertainty. 

Myomis smiled, backing off and then hopping up on the bunk beside her. "Myomis, sit." 

Sam cleared her throat and slid off the bed. She motioned Janet forward. Perhaps Myomis would allow them to check Daniel’s body. She put a hand up, stopping him as he started to get off the bed. Janet stepped around her and touched Myomis’s arm. She tugged it forward. 

Myomis frowned, but allowed her. She wrapped the pressure cuff around his upper arm and started to inflate it. This made the frown deepen, and Myomis started to pull away. Sam touched his other arm and shook her head. He stopped pulling away, but was not happy. He started questioning Sam, speaking in the strange language again. 

Sam shook her head. She couldn’t understand anything. Finally, Myomis held up his hand, turning it from back to front and shaking it. 

"I think fish-boy just noticed that he isn’t a fish boy anymore." Jack drawled. 

Everyone looked up at the clattering sound of footsteps. An airman came jogging in with an older man following behind. The man was juggling several thick books and notepads. Jack turned to greet him. 

"Doctor…?" 

"Haller, sir." 

"You speak Akkadian?" 

The man smoothed back his greying hair and nodded. "I understand some of the language." He looked nonplussed. "But Doctor Jackson is our resident expert. If he’s here…" 

He trailed off as Daniel/Myomis spoke to him. Dr. Haller’s mouth opened and closed several times, and then stammered a reply. 

Myomis immediately perked up. He stood up and walked quickly over to Dr. Haller, forcing Janet to hastily pull off the pressure cuff, or be dragged along behind. Words spilled rapidly out of Myomis’s mouth. Haller backed up a little and held up his hands. "Hold it, hold it." He spoke slowly at the man. 

Jack and Sam edged forward. "Haller, what’s he saying?" 

"He’s- He’s asking questions. Where is he? Who are we? Why does he… I think he asked why he looks different…? Colonel?" Haller asked the last plaintively, not understanding. 

Jack waved his hands. "Later, Haller. Right now, tell him he’s with the Tau’ri. We fight the Goa’uld." The anthropologist nodded and translated, pausing once to flip open a reference book. Myomis spun back to Jack, speaking to him. 

Haller hummed and hawed as he had to look up two words. "Alright… I think I got that. He wants to know who is in charge here." 

"That would be me." General Hammond’s voice sounded from the doorway. Everyone looked up. "What on God’s green earth is going on here?" He said. 

"Sir." Carter stepped forward. "Daniel was suffering from some sort of convulsions. When he opened his eyes, he was…" She pointed at Myomis. "He’s calling himself Myomis." 

"The Oannes being that Doctor Jackson was studying?" Myomis looked over at the familiar word. He stepped toward Hammond. Haller came forward, to facilitate introductions. The General sighed as he looked up and down at the man he knew as Daniel. "I am General George Hammond." Haller translated. Myomis leaned over to Haller and said something to him. Haller referred once to his books and then asked Myomis a question. He got a curt nod in return. 

"General, he wants you to repeat what you just said." Hammond frowned but allowed it. 

"I am General George Hammond." 

Myomis lifted his head and closed his eyes. He nodded and replied. "I… am… Myomis. I am… Oannes." He nodded at the last. Hammond’s eyebrows shot up. 

Myomis put a hand to his forehead. Jack moved forward. "Does he have a headache?" Haller put the question to Myomis with the aid of gestures. He received a small nod in return. "Okay." Jack took Myomis… no, dammit, _Daniel_ … by the arm and led him to the bed. "Okay, sit." 

Myomis’s hand made a fist and he pressed it tightly to his temple. "Jack?" The Colonel held up the younger man, hands on his shoulders. 

"I’m here, Daniel." 

But it was not Daniel who whispered the strange words in Jack’s ear. O’Neill looked at Haller. The scientist made a face and shook his head. "I’m sorry, sir. I don’t…" He shrugged. "Reveal fate Omoroca?" 

Jack helped Daniel lean backwards as the younger man’s body went limp. 

\- - - - - 

"So… what the hell was that?" Jack gestured widely, the hand that had been mussing his hair flying out to point at Daniel, once again unconscious on the bed. 

Janet shook her head. "His dissociative states are getting more pronounced. He was fully integrated into this Myomis character. Voice, stance, personality. It was a profound break from Doctor Jackson’s normal persona." 

"Are you saying he’s going nuts?" Jack barked. 

"Sir, I think there may be more to it than that." Carter crossed her arms and looked sideways at Daniel. "What if he was actually Myomis?" 

"Sam…" Fraiser began, a note of warning in her voice. 

Carter put up her hands. "No, think about it. Read Daniel’s mission report for his time with Nem. He quoted Nem as saying that the…" She reached over to the pile of papers. Daniel’s half-written, point-form mission report was in there. "Here it is. He said ‘The memory of your history, your race, is within you. Beneath the surface’." She waved the report. "He highlighted two or three quotes like that. Think about what Nem did to our memories. We fought him. Daniel allowed him free rein to do… whatever he needed to do. What if somehow, Nem was able to pull all those memories, ideas encoded in Daniel’s DNA, up to the surface?" 

General Hammond shook his head. "The results would be…" 

"He’s still Daniel." Jack said, touching the sleeping man’s shoulder. 

"Of course he’s Daniel, with Daniel’s thoughts. But, sir… think about it. If you woke up in another man’s body with all your memories intact… who would you be?" 

"Myomis… if he ever existed, is dead, Carter." 

Sam’s mouth twisted. "Not to Daniel, sir." 

\- - - - - 

Myomis coughed, wincing as the sound ricocheted through his aching skull. Someone had entered his cell. He tried to pull his head up, but could not quite manage it. 

Strong hands gripped his chin and jerked his head upward. He grunted at the harshness of the move, but showed no other signs of pain, keeping his eyes closed. 

"You cannot hide from me, great-uncle." A smooth voice insinuated itself behind his headache, making him frown. 

Reluctantly, Myomis opened his eyes. A young Oannes stood before him. "Belus." He croaked. This child of Ea took after Omoroca. He and Myomis could be mistaken for brothers. Both possessed the brilliant blue eyes and pale green skin of their common ancestor. Belus’s hair was a blue black, as opposed to Myomis’s true black, and the younger Oannes lacked his great-uncle’s scattering of scales across throat and chest. 

"Where is Omoroca?" Belus asked, picking at his blunt fingernails as if the question was unimportant. 

Myomis laughed. "Well… I have seen nothing but these four walls for some time. My mother is no doubt safe and-" He was cut off as a backhand from Belus hurled him sideways. The chains brought him up short and he hung his head. 

"Do not think me a fool!" The younger Oannes spat at his captive. "My father has killed your father." Myomis’s head jerked up and Belus’s expression turned to a gloat. "Oh, yes. Mighty Apsu has been taken into the watery deep." 

Myomis drove a fist forward, brought up short by the chains. "Fool!" He roared. "He was better than all of you!" 

Belus slammed a clenched fist into Myomis’s chest, and then held the older Oannes by the throat. "Where is your mother?" Myomis curled up his lip and received another fierce backhand for his defiance. "Your mother has hidden herself from us. We will find her and destroy her." 

"She was the only one that ever felt you were worth saving." Myomis forced the words out. 

"She betrayed us all. I have spoken with the others. They fear that weak female. They think her powers are too mighty to counter. I shall show them the truth. If I destroy her, I will become the king of all gods. My name will be spoken with reverence, and the wretched beings of this planet will bow down before me."  


"You will be the king of a ruined world. The people will not allow you to rule for long." 

The Goa’uld looked at him contemptuously. "These… _Tau’ri_ are weak. They will be easily overcome. Already they acknowledge me as a God." 

"And what will you do for them arrogant child?" Myomis asked wearily. "A god must be able to perform for his people, or his people will choose more… accommodating deities. You and your kind have never walked among them as Apsu, Omoroca and I have. They welcome our knowledge, but they do not see us as deities." 

Belus chuckled. "Because you are too foolish to see the possibilities before your very eyes. You are weak. You harbour misplaced affection for those creatures in your thoughts." The Goa’uld leaned forward. "For one in particular, yes?" 

Myomis’s fist drove forward again, opening more wounds on his bruised flesh, but he could not reach Belus. "You will not harm her!" He growled, gem-blue eyes glittering dangerously. 

Belus moved forward, hurling Myomis to the wall, pressing up against him. "Tell me of Omoroca. Where does she hide?" Myomis spat insults at the Goa’uld. Belus released him and stepped back, gesturing to his Jaffa guards. "Take him… bind him well. We shall ascend to the surface and you will watch as I destroy this palace and all who dwell within. If Omoroca wishes to hide from me, I shall simply have to tear down the walls of her home around her." 

Myomis struggled, taking one Jaffa by surprise and managing to throw him off. The others pounded him to the ground as he reached for Belus. Myomis cried out weakly as the continued abuse overwhelmed him. When he finally slumped and was still, Belus came and crouched before him, running a finger across his great-uncle’s bloody face. "I am a God." He whispered, touching Myomis’s blood to his lips with a smile. 

As the Jaffa lifted him, broken bones shifted and tortured flesh protested. Myomis groaned softly and dropped into oblivion. 

\- - - - - 

Daniel shifted in his bed. A full six hours had elapsed from the time he… Myomis had collapsed in the infirmary. It was night. The infirmary lights were turned down low. Jack was curled up in a hard, plastic chair next to Daniel’s bed. Sam was stretched out on a bed next to him. Teal’c sat on the floor, meditating. Janet had left SG1 alone, but she was nearby in her office, open books scattered across her desk as she napped lightly in her chair. 

Sam watched him as he quietly sat upright, testing his sore limbs. The convulsions had been severe. He probably felt like he had pulled every muscle in his body. He ran his hands over his arms and chest. Lines snaked out of his hospital scrubs and over to machines. Someone had replaced the IV line. 

Daniel drew up his knees and put his hands over his face, looking as if he were thinking madly. 

"Daniel?" His first instinct was to look at the figure asleep in the chair, but the voice had definitely been female. Wary blue eyes sought out Carter as she eased out of her bed and stepped to his side. She sat on the edge of his bed, and smoothed his long bangs out of his eyes. He smiled softly. "How are you feeling, Daniel?" He cocked his head forward, contemplating. "Do you want me to get Janet?" Sam asked. 

Daniel’s head came up, and he gave a peculiar little shake, flipping his hair out of his eyes. Sam flinched. She had seen that gesture once before. 

"Samantha." The word was whispered, heavily accented. 

Her body slumped a little. She had been hoping… "Myomis." 

He spoke gently to her in his native language. She shook her head. The only word she had understood was ‘Daniel’. He made a little noise and then moved his hands, making circles around his face and touching his chest. "Daniel?" 

Sam pulled back for a moment. She and Janet had a long talk about this. If Daniel was delusional, they couldn’t afford to reinforce that delusion. If, on the other hand, he was actually Myomis, well, they might need his help. She found herself nodding agreement before she’d even finished thinking things through. 

"Yes. Daniel’s body." She looked around. Ah, there. She found a small mirror among Janet’s infirmary supplies and handed it to Myomis. The man took it hesitantly, taking two long breaths before holding the mirror up in the dim light. Myomis’s hand flew up to his face, touching his cheeks and forehead unbelievingly. He hissed a long breath through his teeth, and put the mirror face down on the bed. 

"Belus." The whisper was harsh. He ran his long fingers through his hair. "Belus…" 

"No." Sam shook her head. "Daniel." She took the mirror and held it up. Myomis winced away from it. She put her hand under his chin and drew him back. "Daniel." She repeated more forcefully. 

Myomis sighed and looked back at the mirror. This time he relaxed and his shoulders slumped. Whatever he saw, it wasn’t as bad as he thought. With Sam holding the mirror, he leaned forward, pulling down on his lower eyelids to reveal more of the blue colour. He pointed to his eyes and looked at Sam. "Belus." 

"Belus’s eyes?" 

"Aaaiesss?" He tried. 

"Eyes." 

He nodded. "Belus eyes." 

He opened his mouth and touched the blunt, white teeth. "Belus." 

"Belus’s teeth." 

The Oannes ran his fingers along his jaw line and over his nose. He smiled. "Myomis." He then ducked down and took a closer look at his hair and eyebrows, touching his cheekbones and lips. He frowned. "No Myomis. No Belus." 

"Daniel." Sam’s voice was husky with emotion. It finally dawned on her that she might be losing Daniel… just after getting him back. 

A slight movement made her look up. Jack and Teal’c were awake, both watching her with Daniel. Jack’s expression was bleak. He looked lost and frustrated… and angry. Still, he made no move to interfere. 

Daniel… Myomis was trying to catch Sam’s attention, making signs on his bed, drawing shapes with his forefinger on the sheets. She put up her hand, signalling him to wait, and went to Janet’s desk. She woke the doctor and asked her for supplies. Janet gave her a pad of lined paper and a pen. She brought it back to him. He took it and started writing strange symbols on it, passing it to her when he was done. 

She shook her head. The lines, arrows and boxes were unlike anything she had ever seen. Perhaps Haller could help in the morning. Myomis made a little frustrated sound. He shook his hands, like he had pins and needles and then tried again. 

He drew a straight line, and half a sun… sunrise. Then, another straight line and a full sun high in the sky… midday. Next, another straight line and half sun… sunset. Finally, a straight line and stars. Night. He drew a line between them, joining them, and then some complicated symbols. He pointed to the symbols and pronounced the word. 

Sam cocked her head and then nodded, understanding. "Day. It’s a ‘day’." 

"Day." 

She nodded to him. Myomis drew some more complicated symbols along another straight line. He pointed to one. "Apsu." Further down the line. "Myomis." Then further down, "Ea." And further still. "Belus." He extended the line and handed her the pen. "Samantha? Daniel? Day?" 

"What the…?" Jack whispered. Myomis made another frustrated growl. 

"I think he wants to know how much time has passed, sir." 

"Time?" 

"Yes, sir. The Oannes were a sophisticated race. Daniel makes mention of Omoroca descending from a ‘heavenly egg’. They could have arrived by space ship. He took the pen without question, he must have seen something like this before." She looked at her CO and shook her head at the strangeness of it all. "The Oannes lived in Babylon, but they weren’t Babylonian. They probably weren’t even from Earth and the definitely weren’t human. Even at that time, their technology probably was more advanced than ours is today. Myomis probably can see that we’re not the same people he knew 4,000 years ago." 

She took the pen. "Let’s see if you know the seasons." She made a rough approximation of the four seasons, hoping that even in Babylon, they knew what winter was. Eventually, with a lot of pointing, she made him understand the word ‘year’. Then, they needed a quick lesson on the numbering system and how to write numbers correctly. Myomis was a quick study. Of course, Daniel had mentioned that Nem had picked up English very quickly, but Sam had assumed that was some Oannes technology. Perhaps Myomis and the Oannes were natural linguists, or somehow, Myomis was making use of Daniel’s skills. 

Whatever the case, in only an hour, she had taught him the basics of reading and the numeral system. He was not to be dissuaded though. He pointed back to his chart. "Myomis… Daniel. Years? One… ten…?" 

Sam pursed her lips. Janet was at Myomis’s bedside now, watching his monitoring devices. Daniel’s temperature was going down, but his blood pressure remained too high. At Janet’s okay, she flipped over to a new page and wrote out ‘Myomis’ and ‘Daniel’ in English with a line between. She hesitated again, and wrote ‘4,000’ underneath the line. 

Myomis gasped. "Day?" 

Sam winced and shook her head. "Years." 

Myomis reeled backwards in his bed, hands flying to his forehead. "Year?" He rasped. "Year?" Janet edged forward as some of the machines started to complain. She popped a syringe and inserted it in to the IV line. Myomis didn’t notice, too overwhelmed trying to assimilate this new knowledge. He started speaking again, rapid-fire, hands flailing. Sam grabbed one arm, Jack took the other. Sam made soft noises, trying to calm him down, while Jack rubbed his shoulder. 

He kept repeating one word to them, looking plaintively at them. Sam frowned. Teal’c stood up and joined his team-mates as they tried to calm the distressed man. Teal’c spoke to Myomis in Goa’uld, but the man simply wrinkled his forehead, perplexed. His Goa’uld was evidently not that good. He turned back to Sam, a drowning man seeking refuge. 

Myomis formed some of the few words he did know. He pounded his fists against his chest, touched his palms to his face. "Daniel." He clenched his fists to his temples. "Myomis." He repeated the gestures, adding a word in Akkadian. "Daniel… Myomis…?" 

Teal’c spoke in Goa’uld. Myomis pointed to him with a soft exclamation. He could not remember the Goa’uld word to say it, but recognised it when he heard it. 

"I believe… Myomis wishes to know how he came to be in Daniel Jackson’s body." 

Sam looked between the Jaffa and the Oannes in her friend’s body. "God… how do we explain that?" 

It was Jack that ended up trying. He stood up and pushed Myomis back onto his pillows. Myomis resisted, frowning in a very Daniel Jackson-like way, but after a brief struggle, he allowed himself to be lowered back. This would only work if Myomis knew about Nem’s mind machine all those years ago. If not, they’d have one confused fish-boy on their hands in a moment. 

"Seven days." He waved his hands over his shoulder, trying to indicate that the time had passed. Daniel." Jack waved his hands across the slim body in the bed. He put his hands up. "Nem’s… Apsu’s." Comprehension was slowly dawning in Myomis’s eyes. Jack pointed back down to Myomis. "Daniel." He pointed at himself, waggling his fingers under his chin like Nem’s tentacles and drawing a raspy breath. "Nem." He gave another rasping breath to hammer home that he was impersonating the blue creature that had done this to Daniel. 

He looked around and found a towel, folding it and laying it across Myomis’s forehead. He reiterated that Myomis was playing the role of Daniel, while he was playing Nem. He picked up a cup, holding it against the wall. His own memories of Nem’s memory device were fuzzy, but this seemed familiar. With one hand holding Myomis by the chin, immobilizing his head, Jack slid the cup down the wall and made a humming noise. He moved his hand to Myomis’s forehead and gripped tightly, until he saw the man wince. "Nem… Daniel." He watched the other man intently. "Come on, man… get it!" 

Myomis started to nod under Jack’s hands. He brought his own fingers up and pulled Jack’s hand off of his face. He spoke rapidly to the older man, but his features spoke understanding. 

"Good God, sir, I think he got it!" Carter said, eyebrows up and more than a little surprised. 

"Indeed, O’Neill… it seems you possess a talent for communication." 

Jack tried to shrug off their words, giving a half smile. "Ah… you know. I’m a guy. We strong, silent types learn how to talk without talking. It’s part of our… mystique…" He trailed off and willed everyone to return their attention to Daniel. 

The other man had taken up Sam’s notepad, and was frantically scribbling cuneiform over it. Sam cleared her throat, trying to get his attention. With his free hand, Myomis made a little slashing motion, cutting her off. She exchanged looks with O’Neill as that free hand crept up to Myomis’s temple and the man’s writing slowed momentarily. A headache was coming on. 

Jack dropped into his chair. From there, his face was level with Myomis’s. He could see the other man’s grimace. He had started to sweat. Fraiser made concerned clucking noises as she observed the medical equipment. Myomis hunched over and his pen pressed into the paper hard enough to rip through the first sheet. With a conscious effort, he pulled back and sat up. His head dropped back. His lips were parted, and Sam could see that he was literally biting his tongue to hold back any pained expressions. 

He closed his eyes and pushed the paper in her direction. She took it and his hands dropped back to the bed. Janet bustled O’Neill out of the way, and injected something into Myomis’s IV. The Oannes forced a word out between gritted teeth. 

"Haller." Sam looked at the paper. A message for Haller to translate. Myomis gave a small groan and listed sideways, into Jack’s startled arms. He was utterly limp as the Colonel gently placed him back into the bed. 

\- - - - - 

<chapter eight>

Myomis groaned. Belus’s Jaffa held him tightly. His hands had been wrenched up and tied behind his back, brutally tight. He stumbled as he walked, the Jaffa cuffing and shaking him when he fell out of line. 

He blinked as they exited the fortress, out into the evening air. The brilliance of weapon fire hurt his eyes. It took him a moment to clear his head and try to focus. Winged craft were screaming out of the night sky, explosions shaking the earth around him. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of combat, and the high-pitched cries of the few humans in the palace fleeing for their lives. He fell to his knees, and this time the Jaffa let him stay there. Tears sprang to the Oannes’s eyes as he saw his family’s home crumble and the strong walls fall. 

He ducked his head as a stray staff weapon bolt threw up sharp rocks and earth. The war drew closer. The Jaffa surrounding him leapt into action. Myomis squinted. Now, he could see his mother’s warriors springing to battle. Most bore the stylized scorpion armour that was Omoroca’s emblem. A number of others had the armour of the enemy Jaffa with deep blue robes underneath. These were the warriors who had deserted their Goa’uld masters to serve Omoroca. The Oannes woman had no time to provide them with scorpion armour, so they used their former masters’ shields against them. 

It gave the battlefield a surreal look, as if a dozen breeds of monsters were fighting, trying to repel the invading forces. With his guards distracted, Myomis staggered to his feet and fled into the evening, away from the town and the fortress. He was no coward but he needed weapons and he needed to find his mother. If nothing else, if all else fell, he wanted to protect her. 

He turned a corner along the outside walls, and slammed into an armoured chest. He winced as he fell backwards and skinned the flesh from his hands. He sagged a little as he recognised the scorpion guards. Pulling a knife, the guard captain freed him from his bonds. He caught the Oannes as Myomis listed. 

"My Lord! We thought you gone or… dead." The guard frowned as his eyes and strong hands roved over Myomis’s damaged skin. "We have searched for you for many days. Who did this to you?" The captain’s angry gaze flared until it seemed it would melt steel. He looked around, as if the guilty party might suddenly appear. 

"I am well, Nedu. Do not worry." Myomis coughed, blood on Nedu’s sleeve making him a liar. "My father?" Myomis silently begged Nedu for an optimistic answer. The guard grimaced and shook his head. Neither he nor Nedu said anything more. 

Myomis looked up into the deep brown eyes of the guard captain, his own sapphire blue orbs wide with pain and exhaustion. The two had been friends for years, and Myomis trusted him with his life. Now, he would have to trust him with the most important things _in_ his life. "Nedu…" He pulled himself upright, gripping the man’s shoulder with his one good arm. "Nedu… Lamashtu, and my sons…. see to them. Hide them." 

Nedu dropped to one knee. "My Lord." His voice rasped. "What of you?" 

Myomis shook his head. "I must find Belus. I must stop him." 

" _We_ will stop him, my Lord." Nedu rose again and gripped Myomis’s arm tightly. The guard was a warrior of old. It was not his way to leave a battle, or turn aside and leave a friend in peril. 

"Nedu, my friend… please. You must guide Lamashtu through the seven gates to safety. I will go with Ennugigi. We will hunt down Ea and Belus." Nedu grimaced and Myomis tried again. "Nedu… Pl-" 

The guard waved him off before he could finish the thought, his voice turning kind and worried. "Of course, Myomis. I will see to them." He touched his hand to the cheek of the Oannes. "Ennugigi… guard him well." 

"Anything else would be unthinkable." The sturdy guardian intoned. Ennugigi, one of the seven chief scorpion guards of the Oannes, was a former Jaffa of the Goa’uld. He had turned from his traitorous masters and joined the Oannes. Belus had called him a "sholva", a Goa’uld word that meant ‘traitor’. Ennugigi had taken it as a mark of honour. 

Nedu and Myomis clasped forearms in the manner of warriors. The guard captain nodded and began to walk away. "Nedu." Myomis called. The older warrior turned back to him. "I will try to find my mother. If she has been injured, I will place her in the chamber of healing. I trust you to keep the remainder of my family safe." His blue eyes bored into Nedu’s. 

The warrior placed his fist to his chest. "I will guard them well… my Lord." 

Myomis smiled. "I know you will." He meant it. "Ennugigi… let us proceed." 

The two groups parted company. Nedu travelled with only one warrior to guard him as they sought out Myomis’s wife and children. Lamashtu had been in the service of Anu, nephew of Myomis. She was a fearsome warrior, and intelligent as the day was long. Only Nedu and Ennugigi knew that Myomis was the father of her children. Lamashtu had never told her master, Anu, of her divided loyalties. In fact, she had been a trusted advisor, often passing along the information to her husband. Anu believed that Lamashtu’s children were fathered by one of the guards and therefore had no interest in them. This would soon change… 

Myomis and Ennugigi picked their way toward the volcano. Omoroca had hidden in the myriad tunnels in the mountain. Only Myomis and Apsu knew them well enough to find her. 

Myomis cursed as he was hurled roughly from his feet by a hard tremor. He looked up at the death gliders pounding mercilessly on the volcano. The fortress was all but destroyed now, only pockets of soldiers left to fight. The few townsfolk left had mostly been killed. They did not know of the gates to the mainland, and could therefore escape only by boats. The small craft were easily picked off by death gliders. 

The volcanic crater had all but collapsed. Myomis shook his head. This would only speed up the destructive process. The sides of the volcano had already begin to bulge in the last few weeks. All of the attacks were sure to cause an eruption. They must hurry. 

"My Lord!" Ennugigi spoke quickly, pointing. Myomis’s heart caught in his throat. Omoroca was on the surface, fleeing the battle. He ran toward her, ignoring the flaring pains of his wounds, Ennugigi on his heels. 

"Mother!" He cried, and she changed her course to intercept Myomis and Ennugigi. The Oannes grabbed his mother up in a tight hug, while Ennugigi stood guard over them. 

"My good son, are you well?" Omoroca was devastated by the injuries done to her son by his own family. 

"I will be well, mother. We must flee. Belus seeks your life." 

"I know, my son. He wishes to conquer all. I fear he has succeeded." 

"We will fight him, mother, but this place is no longer safe. Come, we must leave. We can take the seven gates to the safety of the mainland." Myomis took his mother’s hand and began to guide her away. He turned back as she pulled on his hand. 

"Myomis, what of Lamashtu?" 

The Oannes smiled. "Nedu will find her. He has promised me that she will be safe." 

Omoroca gave a rare smile in return. "Then she will be so. Nedu is stronger than any man I know." 

Together, the trio picked their way toward the shoreline. They would need to descend the cliffs to the caves. These caves led to an underground passage which travelled to the mainland. From there, they could escape and plot their revenge. 

At last, they stood on the paths to the caves. They had avoided the guards and minions of Belus by lying low in the low shrubs and brush. Ennugigi had killed a half dozen of Belus’s Jaffa, suffering only a minor wound to the leg in the process. They were now only a short walk to a path that wound down to the cliff face to the beach. From there, they would walk to the caves. Myomis stood on the edge of the precipice, looking down and trying to determine the closest cave entrance. Omoroca helped to bind Ennugigi’s wound. 

They were caught completely unaware as Belus descended from the sky in the strange metal rings of the Goa’uld. With a simple gesture, he struck Myomis with a mighty energy bolt, hurling the Oannes man off of the cliff, into the scalding water below. Ennugigi was thrown a great distance by a second blast, only to be struck again as he rose. The brave warrior fell, unconscious. 

Omoroca screamed for her son, and her guard and then turned to face her great-grandson. Fury etched her features and she drew herself up. This time, she would not run. 

"And against the gods my fathers thou hast contrived thy wicked plan. Let then thy host be equipped, let thy weapons be girded on! Stand! I and thou, let us join battle!" Belus roared the ceremonial words of challenge as he and Omoroca readied themselves. 

On the shoreline, Myomis dragged himself to consciousness, seared by the water. A volcanic vent had opened near by and the water was approaching the boiling point. Already thick plumes of mist were rising from the surface of the sea, making it difficult to see any distance. 

The combatants stumbled as, behind them, the huge volcanic eruption began. The crater blew apart, forming a massive caldera. Gouts of black ash flew into the sky and superheated air rolled down the hillside, killing all in its path. Omoroca and Belus were far enough away that the terrible and deadly clouds would not reach them, but even so, they broke off their battle for a brief moment to stare in wonder at the death throes of the island. Giant streams of magma were thrown into the air by the eruption, looking as if the volcano were spewing shooting stars into the sky. 

At the base of the cliffs, Myomis reached the shore, and tried to force himself upright. The volcanic eruption had caused a massive lightning storm to form. Strong winds were buffeting the waves, spraying him with the hot water. He coughed harshly, his body nearing the limits of its ability to function. He drew strength from his anger and despair. His mother and Ennugigi were at the top of the cliff. He knew that he had to reach them and stop Belus, though it might cost him his life. Hunched over, he made his way laboriously up the path to the top of the cliff. Reaching the top, he dropped to his hands and knees, suddenly unable to catch his breath. 

The death gliders swooped out of the sky again, decimating the village and fortress, raining death like lightning bolts upon the soldiers helpless on the field of battle. Omoroca screamed as her troops fell. Belus simply laughed at her rage. 

Myomis threw himself sideways as a death glider roared over his position, energy bolts exploding almost at his feet. He screamed as it jolted his broken bones. Blood ran thickly out of his mouth and down his chin. He dug his fingers into the soil as a massive earthquake made the ground heave and pitch. He could still see his mother battling the Goa’uld, Belus. Omoroca fought with the energy devices of the Oannes. It was these devices that the Goa’uld had adapted to make their hand devices. He silently cheered as she threw Belus across a clearing, nearly over the cliff’s edge. 

The Goa’uld caught himself at the last moment, straightening up with fury writ large across his face. A secondary quake threw Omoroca off her feet. Myomis screamed as Belus took advantage of this momentary weakness and used a staff weapon, discarded by some fallen Jaffa, to blast his nemesis. Omoroca spun as the weapon opened a huge hole in her belly and she crumpled to the ground. 

Another explosion threw all of the fighters from their feet. The caldera enlarged, ash and magma spilling out onto the flanks of the volcano. It looked like the mountain had been torn asunder, heaving in its death throes, blood spilling across violated flesh. Belus had truly defeated them. 

Belus was slow to gain his feet. The battle with Omoroca had weakened and wounded him. Myomis managed to scramble forward the last few feet and tackled the Goa’uld, driving him to the ground. Again and again he struck, snapping the younger man’s head back, splashing blood in the air. 

Belus’s fist caught Myomis in the throat, and the Oannes arched backward. In that split second of weakness, Belus brought up his hand device and unleashed his wrath upon his great-uncle. Myomis howled as the brilliant golden light crashed into his skull, tearing his mind apart. He knelt at the Goa’uld’s feet, helpless as his life ebbed away, blood dripping from his nose and ears. 

He slumped to the ground as the light disappeared and Belus collapsed backwards. Ennugigi had awoken and found his staff weapon, dealing a blow to Belus every bit as devastating as the blow the Goa’uld had given Omoroca. Belus cried out and crawled to his knees. He slammed down a button on his hand device and the great rings crashed down upon him, bearing him away to safety. 

Ennugigi stood and watched helplessly as the great ship hovered overhead. Either arrogance or malice held Belus’s hand and the Goa’uld pulled away, leaving Ennugigi to watch Omoroca and Myomis die as the volcano slipped into the sea. 

The large man had no such plans. He put his head back and roared defiantly at the skies. He made his way to Omoroca, gathering the tall woman in his arms. On legs made unsteady by wounds and by the heaving of the dying volcano, he picked his way to Myomis. 

The younger Oannes moaned piteously as Ennugigi nudged his shoulder with a booted foot. "My Lord!" He called harshly, making Omoroca twitch in his arms. "We must depart. Can you stand, my Lord?" 

Myomis groaned and rolled over on to his belly, stifling his cry of pain. He reached deep within and found hitherto unknown reserves of strength, pulling himself to his knees. Eyes closed, he gripped Ennugigi’s arm and made it to his feet. He bowed his head and coughed wetly, spitting blood on the earth. 

"Can you walk, my Lord?" Ennugigi asked as gently as he could. 

Myomis gave a little smile. "I am well, Ennugigi. Thank you. Please, lead the way." Myomis made a weak fillip with his fingers. Ennugigi, solid and sombre, merely raised an eyebrow before picking his way down to the path, Myomis stumbling along behind. 

They were forced to jog the last few feet as the cliff face gave in, nearly on top of them, and buried the cave entrance. Myomis forced his aching body onward to the first gate, before collapsing, barely breathing. There was no sign of Nedu and Lamashtu. Myomis hoped beyond hope that they had escaped. The beach caves were, of course, not the only entranced to the underground. Perhaps his most loyal guardian and his wife might yet make it. 

"How fares… my mother?" He forced out, between gasps. 

Ennugigi looked up. He had torn his tunic to make bandages for Omoroca. Myomis had refused his aid, wrapping his arms around his damaged chest and retreating. "She is badly wounded, my Lord. It would be best if we could find a place for both of you to rest and heal." 

Myomis waved his clawed hand. "I will be well. Take her through the gates. Find the chamber in the great hall on the mainland. It will keep her stable until we can heal her." He coughed, hiding the blood with a clenched fist. "Go. I will stay and await Nedu." His eyes met Ennugigi’s briefly, before sliding away to examine the wall. "I am well." 

"You are most clearly _not_ well, my Lord." The Jaffa replied. He looked down the tunnel and back at Myomis. "It is quite possible that Nedu and Lamashtu have been captured or…" 

"Do not…" Myomis wheezed, painfully. If he thought like that, he’d give up and would quickly die. 

Ennugigi bowed his head. "Of course. Shall we try to continue?" 

Myomis crawled painfully up the wall, and followed the large Jaffa as he guided them through the gates. They walked for several hours, reaching the third gate, before Ennugigi turned and pressed Myomis against the wall. "Someone comes, my Lord." The trio receded into the shadows of a smaller side tunnel and waited as a small band approached. 

Had he the strength, Myomis might have cried out with joy, but instead, all he could do was gasp and sag weakly against the rocky walls. The gasp was soft, but the trained ears of the captain of the guard caught it, and he put up an arm, stopping his charges. 

"Who goes there?" He barked. He held a long staff weapon before him, primed and ready. 

"Nedu!" Ennugigi called, emerging from the shadows, Omoroca still in his arms. 

The captain’s face nearly split in two with a wide and almost unheard of smile. The smile faded as he looked around. "Where is Myomis?" 

"Here." The wounded Oannes rasped, too dizzy with relief to pull himself off the ground. His smile was as wide as Nedu’s though. 

"Myomis!" A female voice cried out, and a small, slim figure darted around Nedu and hurled herself at the seated man. 

"Lamashtu." Myomis’s voice broke with relief as he held his beautiful wife in his arms again. The woman had been nicknamed ‘the demon’ by her enemies. Her solid beauty masked a core of iron. She was smart and deadly, capable of defeating enemies many times her size. Myomis touched her cheek, looking deeply into her soft eyes. 

She was a full human, an albino, with marble white hair and skin, and shocking blue eyes. It was a genetic anomaly that made her an outcast among the sturdy mocha skinned people of the region, and added to her unearthly allure. Myomis found her to be the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He could spend hours staring at their contrasting bodies. He loved watching the play of muscles under her white skin as his greenish hands rested on her cheek, her belly, her legs. His black hair was shockingly dark against her white blonde curls as he rested his cheek on her head. 

He was not human, but he could almost pass for human… at least in the general shape of the species. His face was human enough, save for his sharp teeth and the fact that his eyes were a uniform blue colour, without any white in them. It was as great a surprise to him as to her when she became pregnant with their first child, which turned out to be the double blessing of twins. They had not questioned their good fortune too deeply, simply marvelled in it and in their love. 

Her lips met his in a decidedly unchaste kiss. She was almost frantic with worry. "I thought you dead… gone." Tears glistened in her eyes. 

"I waited for you." He whispered. They finally broke apart to allow the two children to approach. They flung themselves at their father with abandon. The boys were half Oannes, half human. They had their father’s dark hair, and the dark skin of their mother’s people. Their eyes were a brilliant sapphire blue, and they had neither claws nor scales. 

Nedu allowed a brief moment of family bliss, before he knelt next to his lord and touched Myomis’s hair with a calloused hand. "My Lord, we must go." Myomis looked up at him and nodded. His eyes conveyed his eternal thanks for Nedu’s work in saving his wife and children. 

The children backed away, and Lamashtu allowed Nedu to help her husband to his feet. "Damn this!" Nedu swore as he got a clearer look at Myomis’s wounded body. 

"We found Belus." Myomis whispered, leaning his head against Nedu’s shoulder briefly. "He escaped." 

Nedu’s sure fingers touched the spreading burn on Myomis’s forehead. "Damn him." He grated. 

Myomis shook his head. "Please, we should leave. Omoroca needs to be placed in the healing chamber." 

Together, they made their way through the endless tunnels to the mainland. Lamashtu went first, weapons at the ready. She killed four Jaffa that somehow wandered in to the tunnels. Myomis followed her, one arm over Nedu’s shoulder, leaning on the sturdy man for strength. The children came behind their father, and Ennugigi was last, Omoroca cradled in his arms. 

Faint tremors rocked the ground softly. They were far enough away now not to risk the terrible destruction that had decimated the island, and the palace was well-built and sheltered. Myomis was nearly unconscious on his feet when they arrived. Still, he refused to be treated first, Healing would take days, and Omoroca was his first concern. Lamashtu disagreed, but she respected her husband’s wishes. They camped in the central chamber of the great hall. Nedu and Ennugigi searched the abandoned palace around them and found medical supplies and food. 

Myomis fell into a fitful rest, bandages covering half his body. Nedu had splinted his broken bones, soothed his burns and bound his wounds. Lamashtu’s lips had thinned as she beheld the terrible damage dealt to her husband. She and Nedu exchanged meaningful glances. Lamashtu swore to devote her life to the defeat of their enemies. 

They awoke the next night to the horrible sound of footsteps echoing through the empty palace. Myomis gasped as he pulled himself to a seated position. Nedu had scouted and returned. There were dozens of Belus’s Jaffa descending on their position. 

The Oannes flailed out, grasping Nedu’s arm. "Help me." He cried hoarsely. The guard gripped his arm and guided Myomis to his feet. Myomis pulled himself up to the healing chamber, with Omoroca inside. He pulled out two metal pieces from the lid of the chamber. It would put Omoroca in stasis, halting the healing process If Belus and his Jaffa found them now, they would only have to wait until Omoroca would heal, and then the chamber would open on its own. Myomis could not risk his mother falling into the hands of his enemy. He gave one key to Ennugigi, one to Nedu. "Keep these safe. Ennugigi… guard Lamashtu. Nedu, keep my sons safe." 

"No!" Lamashtu cried, understanding what Myomis intended. The Oannes silenced his wife’s cry with a kiss, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. 

He pulled back and touched his forehead to hers. "Lamashtu, you must. I can destroy the palace from here. This chamber will remain intact. I have food and water. I will make my way out later and meet up with you in the safety of the old palace. Ennugigi will guide you there. We will all return later, and free my mother, so you must keep the keys safe." He hated lying to his wife, but she would not leave otherwise. 

He broke away and turned to the stasis chamber. He took one last piece from it, a golden piece of artwork in beautiful geometric patterns with a glass vial held in a delicate matrix. He placed the end of the vial against his arm, and hissed as a needle slid out from the piece and pierced his skin. The vial filled with his blue-hued blood. He placed the vial back on the surface of the compartment where a little of the blood was drawn into the machinery of the healing chamber. 

He then gave the piece to Lamashtu. "Nedu will explain this when you are safe, but it is important." He took his wife’s face in his hands, and stared into her frightened blue eyes. "I must stay, Lamashtu. Only the blood of the Oannes can set off the device that will destroy the palace." He smiled sadly, a tear welling up in his eye. "I will be well, my wife." He kissed her again, their lips soft, fighting for control in trying circumstances. "I love you." 

"I love you, Myomis. I will wait for you until I am old and ugly." 

Myomis laughed. "You will never be ugly, beloved." He looked at their children. They stared solemnly up at their father. "You must be strong for your mother. Be wary and be wise. You must carry on the work of your grandparents. Keep this world and its… Tau’ri," His gaze briefly met Ennugigi’s. "Safe. I love you." 

The two boys threw themselves against him, wrapping their thin arms around his legs and crying. He touched their heads softly. Finally, Lamashtu pulled them away, leaving him to speak with his loyal guards. 

"Ennugigi… I thank you for your loyalty and your strength. Guard Lamashtu well. She will need your level head." Behind Ennugigi, Lamashtu made an outraged sound, but her eyes smiled at him. 

"I will devote my life to keeping her safe, my Lord. Should the opportunity not arise to tell you this later, I wish you to know that I consider it a great honour to serve you and your family." 

"You are like my family to me, Ennugigi. I only wish those of my blood had your strength of character and directness of purpose." The two clasped forearms and looked into each other’s eyes until Ennugigi bowed his head and backed away. 

Finally, it came time for Nedu to step forward. The older guard brought his hands up and cupped Myomis’s face. The two men smiled briefly. 

"You have been like a brother to me, Nedu. I trust my sons to you. Guard them and Lamashtu well." 

"I will stay with you…" Nedu rasped, unable to pull himself away from Myomis’s side. 

Tears now spilled from Myomis’s eyes as he shook his head. "Nedu, please." The warrior pulled the Oannes into a tight hug. They clung together for a long moment until Myomis gently pushed Nedu back. "They will be here soon. Go. I shall stay and guard your retreat as best I am able." 

"Myomis." Nedu pleaded, but the Oannes refused to be moved. 

"Go." He whispered. Nedu bowed his head and turned. He and Lamashtu guided the children while Ennugigi went first to clear the path. Myomis watched them leave, only sagging against the stone chamber as the door slid shut behind his family and friends. 

He pulled his aching frame up. He had not lied in this. Only the blood of Oannes could activate the destructive mechanism that would pull down the walls of this palace, burying any intruders within its high stone wall. He had lied about the effect on this room though. It would become a tomb. The chamber would survive, meaning that Omoroca would survive. However, it would probably take months, if not years, to expose this room. Myomis would not survive the destruction. 

He closed his eyes. He wanted desperately to stay with his wife, his children and his friends. In this, though, he had no choice. Omoroca would survive. She was the strongest and wisest of the Oannes. She would be the one to help these people… these _Tau’ri_ repel the Goa’uld. This was a goal worthy of the sacrifice of his life. 

He prepared the explosives, pressing the symbols on the wall. When that was done, he slumped and sat on the ground. Only one symbol needed to be depressed and the entire building would fall. He waited until the Jaffa burst into the room. 

He smiled as the bolt from the staff weapon tore open his chest and threw him back onto the controls. As his dead body slid sideways to the ground, the last button depressed, and the palace fell in on itself, burying all within. 

\- - - - - 

<chapter nine>

Daniel twitched, slowly coming awake. The other members of SG1 pulled themselves upright from their posts around the infirmary room. Daniel had been unconscious for over sixteen hours. It was now evening, and the team had spent a long anxious day waiting for their friend to come back to them, not knowing if it would be Myomis or Daniel looking out from those clear, blue eyes. 

Doctor Mackenzie had come by when Daniel’s dreams had turned into horrific nightmares. The young man had convulsed and screamed, throwing himself from side to side trying to escape unknown enemies. His blood pressure had spiked, his fever had climbed and his vital signs had grown dangerously erratic. 

Jack just about blew the infirmary apart when Janet revealed that Mackenzie had administered some anti-psychotic drugs in an attempt to control the Myomis delusions. Sam had been calmer, but the set of her jaw and her down-turned glances showed that she was not happy. Teal’c, as always, was inscrutable. 

Despite their objections, midway through the morning, Daniel had finally calmed down and fallen into a deep, healing sleep. Janet had announced joyfully that, as far as she could read on the monitors, Daniel had managed to fall into a deep REM state. Almost ten hours later, he was stirring. Jack was the first to step forward. He took Daniel’s hand in his own, his other hand touching the young man’s shoulder. Sam smoothed back his long, sweat-soaked hair. Teal’c stood at the foot of the bed, his hand on Daniel’s leg. 

With a low groan, Daniel’s blue eyes opened and he turned to look at Jack. His expression turned from confusion to relief. "Nedu." He whispered. His gaze twisted sideways as Teal’c’s hand tightened on his ankle. "Ennugigi?" 

"Oh, Daniel." Sam whispered, causing him to jerk around and stare wide-eyed at her. 

"Lamashtu?" His smile was dazzling, full of helpless love. He nuzzled his cheek into the palm of her hand and closed his eyes. Sam and Jack exchanged worried glances over their bedridden team-mate’s head. 

"Whoa." With a grunt, Daniel pulled himself upright on the bed, almost tugging out the IV line again. 

"Hey, hey… Myomis. Stop." Sam tried to keep him still. Her hand dropped as the archaeologist’s hand crept up to his face, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed tightly. 

Jack spoke first. "Daniel…?" His voice was low, trying not to startle the other man. 

"Oh, wow." Daniel’s head came up, and he squinted at Jack. "Oh… wow." He repeated. "Jack, you would not _believe_ some of the dreams I’ve been having." 

He jumped as Sam whispered his name softly, and pulled him into a hug. Jack clapped his shoulder and whispered ‘yeah’ under his breath. Even Teal’c almost smiled, and his grip on Daniel’s ankle became momentarily tighter. 

"Wha…?" Daniel fish-mouthed eloquently. "Guys… not that this is… unpleasant, but what’s going on?" He patted Sam’s shoulder awkwardly. 

Sam sat back. This was as hard to explain to Daniel as it was to Myomis. Jack stepped up again. "You’ve been a little… _off_ lately, Daniel." He said, shoving his hands in his pocket as he looked down at the younger man. 

"Off?" The archaeologist repeated, looking around. "Off… how?" Nobody knew how to respond to that, and Daniel’s eyebrows crept up at the sheer volume of concern his friends were displaying. "I remember being sick." He looked from person to person, trying to divine the answers to his questions from their sombre faces. "Come on, guys. I think I have a right to know. ‘Off’ how? Off-kilter, off base… off world? Give me a hint here, I mean I think I smell like I might be a little off my expiration date, but nothing a shower won’t solve, I’m sure." He tried to smile, keeping the tone light, but not even that worked. 

His smile dropped and he started to frown as his friends chose not to answer him, and instead started exchanging worried looks. Almost instinctively, Daniel started to worry the skin of his thumb with his fingernail, as he pondered possible reasons for their silence. "Janet!" The three standing members of SG1 jumped as Daniel, tired of wheedling information from his friends, yelled for his doctor. They all swung guiltily around as she came in at as fast a run as her heels would allow. 

Her smile was broad, quickly morphing to a look of concern. "Oh, now, not you too." Daniel sighed, exasperated. "They won’t tell me anything. Don’t you legally _have_ to tell me what’s going on… or… something?" 

"How are you?" Janet asked, putting the back of her hand against Daniel’s forehead. 

Now getting obstinate, Daniel pulled away and frowned. "Why don’t _you_ tell _me_ , Doctor?" 

Sam looked back at him. "Daniel… the last couple of times you woke up… you weren’t yourself." She and Jack exchanged glances. The fact that Doctor Mackenzie had administered some mind-bending miracle potion on Daniel just before this reawakening was not lost on them. If Myomis was simply a figment of Daniel’s mind, they didn’t want to throw him back into it. 

"What… did I do something?" His eyes widened. Only one thing could have his friends so concerned. "Wait… ‘not myself’… Oh God! Jack!" His voice was terrified as both hands clapped to the back of his neck, feeling for the entrance scar. Jack’s heart wrenched painfully. He definitely did not mean for _that_ to happen. He sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing for Daniel’s hands. "Jack, oh my God… no. How did it… where…? Did I hurt anyone?" Daniel was headed for a full-blown panic attack. 

"Daniel!" Jack barked, trying to get his attention. "No… there’s no Goa’uld. You’re clean." Terrified blue eyes stared into his hard brown ones for a long moment, Daniel’s hands still on the back of his neck. Daniel was perfectly still, caught between ‘submit’ and ‘flee’. 

"Daniel, God… we’re sorry. Listen." Sam sat on the other side. She and the Colonel each claimed one of Daniel’s hands. "The last couple of times you woke up… you were calling yourself Myomis. You addressed everyone in Akkadian." She fetched the notepad covered in symbols. "You wrote this." 

Daniel frowned down at the paper, and then back up to Sam, Teal’c and Jack. Realisation hit, and the archaeologist did his best landed walleye impression; eyes wide open, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "But… that was my dream!" He looked down at the paper. "How could I speak Akkadian… I can’t speak Akkadian! I can puzzle it out with a half dozen reference books, but I can’t speak it." He pushed away the note paper. "I can read it, but you’re talking about near fluent linguistics here." 

"You wrote this, Daniel." San pulled the paper back. 

"That’s not even my hand-writing… that’s yours." He pointed to some of the notations she had made while teaching Myomis the word for day and the numbers. He shook his head. 

"You wrote this one." Sam said, pointing to the few scattered English words and names that Myomis had learned. 

Daniel grinned, trying to catch the joke. "That’s not my handwriting, Sam. None of it is." 

"Daniel Jackson…" Teal’c broke in before panic could once again ensue. "You mentioned something about genetic memory. Could you possibly have been acting out your dreams?" 

The linguist’s hand crept to his temple, massaging it. "Wait… this is too much. Everyone, stop." Frantic glances were thrown around the room. 

"Headache?" Jack’s voice croaked a little. Not now… they’d just got him back. 

Leaning back against the pillows, Daniel nodded. He frowned, eyes tightly shut. "It’s not too bad. Just stress, I guess. I need you guys to explain everything to me…" He covered his eyes with his hands. "And I’m not feeling too hot right now. Better make it small, small words." 

\- - - - - 

It had taken an hour to explain the last few days to Daniel. The young man shook his head. Of course, the genetic memory idea had been his theory, but it was astounding to think it might actually come true. Nobody had been brave enough to bring up Mackenzie and his ‘psychotic episode’ theory. If ‘Myomis’ never reappeared, then everyone would just have to learn to live with the mystery of his origins. Jack, for one, was not missing the Akkadian… Oannes… whatever. There was the sticky issue of continuing to medicate Daniel to deal with these flashbacks, and Jack wasn’t looking forward to bringing that topic up. Their primary concern now was Daniel’s health… physical first, and then mental. 

By the time they had sort of scratched the surface of the whole tale, Daniel was blinking sleepily and trying to wheedle a cup of coffee from Janet. It was his turn to explain his dreams. He gave it his best shot. Jack didn’t even interrupt his rambling speech and frequent tangents, he was that relieved to have Daniel back. 

"So… the upshot is… Lamashtu, Nedu and Ennugigi escaped, and Myomis… died. I need my computer and some of my books. Jack…" He turned pleading eyes on his commander. 

Jack nodded briskly. "Sure, Daniel. Later." _Much later. As in, ‘when we’re sure you’re over this’ later._ He put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. "Don’t you think that you should be resting now?" 

Daniel waved him away absently. "I’m fine, Jack." He twisted in the bed, looking at Sam. "This is amazing, Sam." He took the paper and tapped meaningfully on it. "Nem’s device somehow managed to pull out the memories of Myomis." He shook his head. "Myomis. A character right out of mythology. Imagine what we could find out if…" 

"Daniel." Jack said firmly. "That… ‘memory’ has had you on the ropes for a week. Ahh!" He interrupted harshly as Daniel opened his mouth to object, holding up his hand. "You need to rest. They’ve waited four thousand years, Daniel. They can wait another day or two." 

"Jack." Daniel frowned reproachfully, but he lay back in his bed. Almost against his will, his eyes started to close. He grumbled under his breath, like an over-tired child, and fought it, twitching a little. 

" _Sleep_ , Daniel." 

"Nrgh." Daniel muttered, trying one last tactic. "I know where Omoroca is now. We can…" The last was lost in a breathy sigh as Daniel finally succumbed to sleep and relaxed. The mysteries of the Oannes would have to wait for another day. Jack smoothed back his bangs from his face and shook his head. 

"Sweet dreams." 

\- - - - - 

  
[Yeah… I know the ending is a little abrupt, and possibly raises more questions than it answers… part two is already on the go. With any luck, my wonderful beta-readers will put up with a rambling second round for the sequel! ;) Hope you liked this part at least! Thanks for reading. : ) ] 

  

**The End**

  


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> AUTHOR'S NOTE: Bear with me, the notes are longer than the story! I’ve actually done a fair bit of research in this, and most… probably _all_ of the names are from Babylonian (and other) myths. Most of the Tiamat/Omoroca story comes directly from the Enuma Elish (including some of the dialogue), and I’ve filled in some of the missing bits. Consider this a missing scene for the Enuma Elish, as well as a tag for F &W. <grin> Also… one note about blue-eyed albinos. I knew a family with four kids who were ‘albinos’. Two had pink eyes and two had blue eyes and all four lacked pigment everywhere else. Maybe ‘albinism’ is not the correct medical description for blue-eyes, but I’m basing it on people I’ve known and what they told me. They could be lying. <grin> There is a big hole in the story that I know about (thanks to CarolS) and if I were a good writer, I could maybe work around it. <chuckle> If you spot it, good for you. Yeah, I know it’s there and I’m going to go with the idea that it’s related to things that we really don’t understand so it doesn’t have to make sense. If you don’t spot it… well… as the man says: ‘Then I am not talking to you’. 
> 
> THANKS TO: Pettygrew (big time!) for being my long-suffering beta for this, and allowing me to ramble aimlessly via email. That rambling really helped me get a grip on the story. Thanks to Tiv’ester for pointing out the areas that needed fleshing out, and helping me avoid some of my assumptions. Thanks to CarolS for pointing out some good scenes to see to get a handle on the characters and for her on how to avoid making Emma a Mary-Sue… even though I didn’t listen and she still is <grin>). As always, anything you don’t like, I probably ignored their advice about it and posted without changes. <smile> Thanks as well to Kathy and Arren who gave Pettygrew the medical information that allowed this fic to sound a lot better than the original ‘blah, blah, big words here…’ that it originally read. : ) 

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>   
>  © July 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the  
>  property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and  
>  all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together  
>  with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA  
>  Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret  
>  Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not  
>  intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for  
>  entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are  
>  the sole property of the author.  
> 

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